


Jaded Memories

by yunliu



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Asian Character(s), Coming of Age, Curse Breaking, Family Drama, Friends to Lovers, Ghosts, I CAN'T BELIEVE I WROTE SLOW BURN HOW AM I ALIVE, M/M, Miscommunication, Slow Burn, Teenage Dorks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-31
Updated: 2020-12-27
Packaged: 2021-03-07 19:47:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 28
Words: 100,014
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26933101
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yunliu/pseuds/yunliu
Summary: After angering a ghost that haunts Renjun's attic, Jeno has been cursed to slowly turn into a monster. If he can't get his crush to confess to him by the eve of Halloween, he'll be a monster forever.The task is daunting in itself, but there is only one major problem: he's never spoken to his crush before!
Relationships: Lee Jeno/Zhong Chen Le
Comments: 28
Kudos: 49
Collections: NCT Halloween Fest Round 1





	1. Chapter 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> you will know this moment as the beginning of your end.

“Welcome to my humble abode,” Renjun said, opening the door for them. Jeno was surprised at how big it was: the living room was probably twice the size of his bedroom alone. It had been a while since they had had a sleepover— since then, Renjun had moved to another house. 

Jaemin padded in with his things as well, looking all over. There were a bunch of boxes stashed to the side. Craning his neck, Jeno spied the dusty chandelier on the tall ceiling. 

“Sorry for the mess, we haven’t completely unpacked yet.”

Renjun let them up the stairs. The steps creaked under their feet. Out of curiosity, Jeno tried sliding his hand along the railing. He pulled it back, greeted by a palmful of dust. 

“God, Injun, this place is a dust trap,” Jeno muttered, following him. Some of the yellowing floral wallpaper around this area was peeling off the wall. Yeah, this house needed a renovation badly. 

It had been hours since school had ended, so the sky was starting to become dark. Jeno sat himself down on a bean bag chair. Jaemin just lay on the floor. Thankfully, Renjun’s room was much cleaner than the rest of the house. A smell of fresh paint lingered.

Renjun smiled at the sight of the two of them lazing around, hands on his hips. “Okay, enjoy yourselves, I’ll be back soon. Let me go get something.” 

Jeno opened Twitter. What was on the news? He flipped through his feed. Jaemin stared blankly at his phone, arms in the air. 

Marching with a board tucked under his arm, Renjun slammed the door open, nearly knocking it off its rusty hinges. 

Jaemin promptly dropped his phone onto his face.

“GUYS, STOP WHATEVER YOU'RE DOING,” boomed Renjun. “I WANT TO TALK TO A GHOST.”

“Renjun, you know ghosts aren’t real, right?” Jeno continued scrolling, liking a few tweets on the way. “Besides, are there any ghosts in this house?” 

“As a matter of fact, yes,” Renjun retorted, waving the ouija board in front of their faces. “This house hasn’t been lived in for fifteen years. I heard a rumour that there’s a ghost living here. The thing is— you need more than one person to use this. My parents won’t do it with me, so... as my best friends it’s your obligation.”

Jaemin sat up, affronted, looking at Jeno. “They’re totally real, Jen. Renjun and I talked to a ghost once back during summer camp.” 

“Not you too,” Jeno groaned. “Wait, do we have to do it now?”

“Yes. Or I’m kicking you out of my house.”

Renjun insisted on going up to the attic. To get in they had to go through a little door that was on the ceiling. He stood on his toes, pulled the latch of the door down, and a ladder slowly folded downwards, accompanied by more dust.

In a place like this, Jeno couldn’t make his hand out at all. A sheen of darkness eclipsed everything. Although they couldn’t see a thing, Renjun walked towards the wall, pulling the curtains aside to reveal a small triangular window. 

Moonlight entered in glittering streams, barely illuminating the attic. He pulled a flashlight from his pocket, pointing it towards the darkness. There were a few things here and there, not a lot, though, just some boxes covered in cobwebs. The wooden floor was smooth and cool to the touch. Renjun must have cleaned it up a little. 

They sat down cross-legged, watching Renjun place the board onto the floor. Now that Jeno looked at it, it appeared new, with the black motifs still clean. 

“Move in, we need to have our knees touch.” 

Renjun placed his hands on the planchette, eyes closed in concentration. The two of them followed. “We move this around the board first.”

The air felt thicker. Jeno cast a glance towards his friends, who were both oddly quiet.

“Hello. If there is anyone here, we would like to speak to you. Is that alright with you?”

Jeno frowned as he felt the planchette move. Their hands were just moving unconsciously. No way it could have moved on its own!

Renjun’s eyes flew open in excitement. Jaemin peered at the planchette as it took its time to spell out an answer.

YES.

“Thank you for coming to speak with us.” Jeno frowned even more deeply. “How long have you been staying here?”

They lapsed into silence again. 

“This is stupid,” Jeno blurted out, drawing his hand back sharply.

Visibly irritated, Renjun sucked a breath of air between a hiss of teeth.

“This ghost is taking too much time. She’s probably an old woman or something, nothing worthwhile. I don’t want to do this anymore.” He hurriedly got up, feeling for the door with his foot. 

A dim white face suddenly appeared in front of him with a flash of light. “Where do you think you’re going, child?” Jeno reeled back, hairs all on end. 

It was a pale woman. She looked as if a translucent curtain was drawn over her, casting an indistinct figure, blurring the colours together into something indistinguishable. The apparition flickered like a burnt-out candle, wobbling and waving in shape. 

“What do you want?” Jeno drew back, stumbling a little, horrified. “Renjun, is this the ghost?” He turned behind to try and look at Renjun, but the other boy was averting his gaze. _Betrayal._

“You,” she said, then pausing. Jeno’s vision blanked out to a complete, unnerving white, and then he was seeing again. He quickly ran a hand through his hair, clutching to the roots. It was as if someone had gone through his mind, combing through even the smallest details. He felt violated. “You should know better than to disrespect the spirit of this house. I know just the punishment for you.” 

She pointed an accusing finger towards Jeno. “If you don’t have the person of your affections confess to you by the eve of Halloween, you will transform into the ugliest thing anyone has ever laid eyes on,” she warned grimly. All Jeno could do is stand there, frozen up, disbelieving. “Good luck with that. If you ever summon the guts to talk to them, that is.”

And she disappeared as quickly as she had appeared, vanishing into nothingness. A whole blanket of tension had been released all at once, tumbling down into thick bunches. The lack of noise, the presence of absolute stillness made everything all the more eerie — none of them moved, trying to digest what they had witnessed. 

“Okay, what the hell was that?” Jaemin said in one breath. “Wait... you have a crush?” Jeno felt his face go hot, waving him off immediately. 

“Is that actually gonna happen?” Jeno asked, putting arms closer to his chest. “Was she just trying to scare me?” 

Renjun’s eyes were wide, getting up and shaking Jeno by his shoulders. “You have a crush on someone?” Jeno would have laughed at his expression if not for what had just transpired. 

“Hey, that’s not what’s important,” Jeno groaned, covering his face with one hand. He sank to the floor into a squatting position, brain in knots. “Did she mean it? What did she mean by the ugliest thing anyone had ever laid eyes on? The hell?” 

“Jen, it’s alright, we’ll just have to get your crush to fall in love by the end of October,” Jaemin exclaimed, scooting to place a hand on Jeno’s shoulder. “Huh… unless you mean you have a crush on an adult or something? ‘Cause if they date you, that’s technically pedophilia—”

Jeno nearly kicked him before he could finish.

—

The mindless buzzing of the ceiling fans droned on in the summer heat. Although Jeno was generally a diligent student, he could feel his attention drifting away to all but the lesson. His math teacher ought to record a tape for insomniacs, he thought absently, it’ll make them fall asleep in a matter of minutes. 

He was jolted from his half-awake state when a small, crushed up paper ball landed on his hand. Annoyed, he unfurled it. It was a note in Renjun’s loopy handwriting, in big and bold letters: ‘WHO IS YOUR CRUSH?’

Jeno resisted the urge to hit his head against the table. He crumpled it back up with a vengeance, placing it to a corner. Yet another crumpled note flew onto his desk, the same message, but with bigger handwriting. He made it shrivel up in his hand, dismissing it again. The notes that followed were a whole hailstorm of words, one after another. He quickly turned behind, glaring at Renjun. The notepad on his desk was beginning to thin rapidly. Jeno smiled at that. He could be the bigger person and just wait for him to run out. 

And Renjun, with a devious grin, pulled out a brand new notepad, tearing the plastic wrapper off and placing it right in Jeno’s line of sight. 

Jeno ripped the corner of his worksheet off, scrawling down a whole thesis in disturbing detail how exactly he was going to throttle Renjun with his bare hands. He picked the note up, readying to fling the note at his friend, angling his arm to make sure it hit exactly on the top of Renjun's stupid egg-shaped head—

“Jeno Lee, are you trying to pass notes during my class?” His teacher’s pleasant drawl took a sharper edge, evidently crossed. Shit. 

That’s how he found himself sitting outside his classroom, textbook on the floor, sulking like some overgrown baby. He didn’t even bother trying to strain his ears to try and hear what his teacher was going on about back inside. He mumbled curses under his breath. God, Renjun threw a total of what, ten notes at him? He tried to throw JUST ONE back, but he got caught. Just his luck these days. 

The hallway was barren of students. Around this time, everyone was in class. Jeno brought his knees to his chest, staring at some random marking on the wall. Hopefully, nobody would see him there. 

Footsteps echoed down the hallway, straight to his ears. Jeno tensed up in an instant, nervous it would be some familiar face coming down to see him in this state. Even worse, a teacher. Or the worst of all, it was a bored vice-principal prowling around the halls to stare at lessons. 

No, it was the cute guy who sat in front of him during Music. Probably on a hall pass. Jeno’s heart lurched in his chest for a moment. This timing was way too perfect to just be a coincidence. He scooted out more, but he thought about it again, quietly reluctant. 

Some part of Jeno was way too annoyed at his perpetual inaction, why did he only occasionally grow a spine when it came to his friends coercing him into things he didn’t want to do? To take the plunge, however— _what do I have to lose, I don’t even know his name_ — to just say hello, introduce yourself or something of the sort. But what if he needed to use the toilet, would it be getting in his way? 

He leaned forward, waving one hand awkwardly. “Um… hi.” 

The cute guy stopped for a moment, confused. Then he spotted Jeno sitting on the floor. He cast a little half-smile, still confused. He continued walking further down the hallway, away from there. 

Jeno brought a hand to his chest, wondering if his loud heartbeat had scared him away. It had been thrumming vividly, probably loud enough for the whole damn school to hear. Even if he were the most attractive person ever to exist, he would probably be never able to talk to his crushes. Let alone date someone. Suddenly, looking super ugly from Halloween onwards didn’t sound like a big deal.

Minutes ticked by faster than Jeno had imagined. The bell rang, a whole string of students pouring out of their classrooms. Jeno got up, already looking for his friends. Although he had so much pent up energy earlier, prepared to completely decimate Renjun, it was like all of that had drained away in just a little while. He didn’t even blink when Jaemin poked his cheek.

They were sitting down, legs knocking together under a small metal table. Jeno picked at his rice, chewing, chewing, feeling it melt into a sweet taste in his mouth. Jaemin was a little more animated today, talking through bites of cold kimchi. 

“Maybe we should go back to your house and convince the ghost to lift the curse,” he said, muffled. “Jeno has no intention of telling us who this crush is, so we can’t help him. We’re basically clueless.”

Jeno stared angrily at his metal tray, lips bitten. “It’s Renjun’s fault when he made us play the game. It’s his fault.” 

The features on Renjun’s face soured. “You were saying all those nasty things to a ghost. That was not my fault. Don’t act like you’re not responsible for that.” 

Jaemin levelled his arm at the middle of the table. Renjun and Jeno were glaring at each other on both ends. “First, you guys have to stop bickering. Arguing will get us nowhere.” The three of them collectively let out an exasperated sigh. 

Loosening his posture, Jaemin exchanged tired glances with them. "I hope she was joking. We won't know until the day itself. Halloween." 

Renjun leaned forward, dark eyes sparkling with curiosity. “I didn’t even know Jeno could ever crush on _anyone_.” Shrugging, Jeno leaned back on his chair, trying to look indifferent. Now that he thought about it, he had never talked to them about any matters of the heart. 

“It’s kind of embarrassing,” he admitted, rubbing his nails against the inside of his palm. “It’s not that I don’t crush on anybody. I do, but they’re always silly.”

Jaemin tilted his head to the side a little. Accordingly, Jeno felt himself squaring up more, preparing himself for an onslaught of questions they didn’t receive the chance to ask the other day. “Do we know this person? Is this person from another school?”

“Is it a teacher?” Renjun cut in, with a new seriousness. “Is it Mr Byun? Or is it Miss Kwon? They’re both pretty, but I heard Mr Byun got married last fall.”

“Surely not,” Jaemin replied. “I don’t think Jeno has a thing for older people.” He looked expectant, meeting Jeno’s gaze easily. Maybe he had finally realised that speculation would get them nowhere. 

“You two should stop talking. Then I’ll tell you.” And they do, heads forward, ears perked. “It’s just some guy who I’ve never talked to before today—“

“Oh, hello Chenle,” Renjun said. 

The same guy Jeno had waved to earlier was right behind him. He whirled around with a start, face to face to the boy he was just talking about. He was dressed in a blue sweater, fitted nicely around his waist. Almost like in a cartoon, Chenle’s mouth gaped open a little. “Hey, you’re the guy who was sitting in the hallway.” 

God must have been feeling especially mischievous today, to do something like this. 

“Me?” Jeno couldn’t help the butterflies beginning to stir in his chest. “Well, yes.” His friends’ eyes were needles, staring openly at the back of his head. . 

“I’m sorry I didn’t wave back,” Chenle said. “I wasn’t sure if you were waving at me.” 

Jeno shook his head. “Nah, it’s fine.” 

“I must have been interrupting something.” He redirected his attention toward the group, then to Renjun. “Yangyang wanted me to tell you he wants his Switch back.” 

“Okay,” Renjun said, sounding far away. “I got it. By the way, if you need help with your Korean, just take a picture and send a picture to me, alright?” 

“Alright, bye! Bye, Renjun, bye…” He frowned, nose scrunching up cutely. “Hey, I don’t know your names.” 

“I’m Jeno. He’s Jaemin.”

“Ah, okay, bye, Jeno, bye, Jaemin.” Skipping away, Jeno found his gaze naturally guided to his figure, disappearing to the other side of the cafeteria. 

They fell back into another silence, eerily similar to how they had acted after seeing the ghost. Then Jaemin and Renjun looked at Jeno, ears tips reddened, a sight they had never seen before. 

“You!” Jaemin gasped. “You like him, don’t you?” It took Renjun a beat to catch on, but soon, he was gasping as well. 

“No way, you like Chenle?” Renjun’s hands slammed together into a loud, resounding clap, lowering them to his nose. He looked resigned already. “How are we supposed to get him to confess to you?”

“What’s that supposed to mean? Your friend isn’t that bad looking, give Jeno some credit!”

Instinctively, Jeno placed his arms closer towards his frame, taking a defensive stance. He shushed them hurriedly, narrowing his eyes. “Can you guys please be quiet?” he asked. “The whole school will know my business at this rate.”

Apologetically, Renjun patted his shoulder, looking at Jeno dead on. “You need to remember to be friends with him first. And be super nice to him. Jaem and I will come up with a grand master plan for him to fall head over heels for you, just make sure to befriend him.”

He couldn’t be serious. Even thinking about Chenle made Jeno’s hands feel a little clammy. What he was going to do next, he had no idea. 

—

So, Jeno waited for a chance: find the perfect timing to talk to Chenle, and hopefully have enough in common with him to carry a whole conversation. Though, it was rather difficult as he was a year below Jeno. They didn’t have any classes in common, except for one. That meant he would see Chenle in the computer lab after school sometimes with his friends in the Coding Club, or see him running around during gym to run an errand for his gym teacher, but Jeno hadn’t had a single chance to talk to him.

Scratch that. Jeno was too much of a coward to even talk to him. In retrospect, he already knew trying to wait for the 'right moment' was just himself stalling for time. But he let it happen anyway. 

Chenle was good at his sciences, so he was in the more advanced classes with the older students. And that meant, despite being on different levels, they shared a class. Well, that was how Jeno started crushing on him, anyway. 

"Class," the teacher announced, drawing everyone's attention. "We're going to have a small project. I'll tell you the details later. Since I'm feeling generous today, you may take the time to find yourself a partner." 

Immediately, people began getting up and heading over to their friends' desks. There was some noise as chairs were pulled back, classmates murmuring among themselves. Jeno anxiously looked to the other end of the classroom where Chenle usually sat. His heart sank when he saw a girl approach him. Did he have a partner already? 

Jeno went on auto-pilot, getting up and walking across the room, squeezing through the groups of students. The distance had seemed so far at first, but he could feel himself walk with more purpose as the distance between them grew shorter.

He stood there for a moment, watching Chenle talk to her. "These kinds of questions...oh, Jeno! Hello." Halting his conversation, Chenle looked up at the older curiously. 

"I was wondering if you'd like to pair up with me," he said. "Unless she's already pairing up with you, of course." 

"No, it's fine. I'm down for that,” Chenle replied as the girl left. He straightened his posture, pulling his phone from his pocket. "Can you give me your number? So I can contact you later." 

That sentence, taken out of context, would have become a feeder for his dreams. Maybe Jeno's attitude had been too dismal at first. This wouldn't be too bad. He smiled at Chenle, who gave Jeno a close-mouthed smile back. Something in Jeno fluttered slightly like flower petals disturbed by a gentle breeze. Did this count as progress? Jeno wasn’t sure. 

—-

Jeno felt horrible and was pretty sure he smelled awful too. Yet he couldn't help but sprawl across his bed. He brought his hand up, seeing the ceiling light peek through his fingers lazily. Jeno had changed out into a loose old shirt, and his hair was in a mess. The strands kept falling over his face. 

Thinking about hair made his mind drift into thinking about Chenle. He had black hair, nothing abnormal, but the tips were more of a darker blue. It suited him. Then he remembered what they had to do. And he had promised to call the other later to discuss their project. He reached for his phone somewhere under his pillows. He had already done some research, so he'd video call him to show the notes. 

Wait. What was he wearing? Jeno probably looked the farthest from presentable right now. He went to his closet, digging up one of his newer hoodies to wear. It took about five minutes to tame his mess of hair with a comb, getting rid of the frizz with a bit of hair oil. That would do. 

He thumbed the call button, listening to the phone trill for a bit. Chenle picked up. "Jeno, hi," he greeted. "Should we video call?" 

"Wait," Jeno said. He picked himself up, looking around his house for the brightest room. He slipped into his parents' bedroom, drew the curtains to let the natural light in, and angled his camera until he found the best position. "Okay." 

Chenle's face popped up on his screen. He was wearing a black muscle tee, the very definition of homeliness. It made Jeno's heart rate pick up just the slightest. Jeno adjusted his camera, then smiled at it. "Where do we start?"

Boy, was Chenle prepared. Because he dug out a whole bunch of papers, already covered in sloppy annotations. In the midst of it all, Jeno could only think _wow, he's brilliant_. Chenle seemed like a messy guy, but he'd be the type to have order within the chaos. Overall, it was a productive session, with them both typing on a shared document. They organised a day to meet up. 

They kept their things away when Chenle started talking again. "You're good friends with Renjun?" And he looked so pleasant there, waiting for an answer. 

"Yes, we're close. You as well?" 

"We’re close through our parents," Chenle said, smiling, and he showed his teeth this time. It reached his eyes, and they curved up into pretty crescents. Jeno felt himself panic at the cutest smile he'd ever seen because — Jeno didn't know he could do that! What the heck! How was he supposed to get to know this guy if he couldn’t even speak to him in coherent sentences? 

"Uh, that makes sense. I’ve got to go now. Got lots of stuff to do! You know how it is," Jeno said hurriedly. "Goodbye, Chenle." He hung up, staring into the black mirror of his screen, frustrated. Damn cute boys and their lovelier smiles. 

He recalled the times when Jaemin had confessed that he had liked Jeno back in the first year. Jeno had no clue. He was the ‘densest guy he’d ever met’ or whatever. Apparently. Chenle, hopefully, wasn’t like him, or he could be incredibly perceptive and find out Jeno had a crush on him quickly. The second possibility sounded mortifying in itself, but wouldn’t it be better for him to know? 

“Take it slow,” Jeno said aloud to himself, slumped over his mattress. “Be friends with him first. Figure everything out later.” His attempt in reassuring himself didn’t feel comforting in the slightest. He didn’t trust his mouth to say the right things. But for now, this was going to be the best he would get.

__

They were sitting in their usual haunt, a small hole-in-the-wall coffee shop a little ways ahead of the school. They spent many of their afternoons there when they had to stay back for their respective clubs. Renjun was sipping his drink as he scribbled down on a notebook. 

Jeno checked the time. It was still early, but he and Jaemin had already finished their snacks. He eyed Renjun’s notes. It was a checklist for the Art Club. Seeing how concentrated Renjun was, Jeno was sure that he wasn’t going to move until he was finished. 

He drew back his chair. “Guys, I’ll go back first,” he said, turning to the door. “I wanna change before everyone else does.” 

“Wait! I’m coming with you.” Jaemin got up as well, following Jeno. Renjun didn’t even blink, continuing to write. 

It was only a short walk to school if they cut from the soccer field. Both of them were in the Soccer Club, so they headed to the changing rooms to change their clothes, the ones near the field. It was the one that had grass stalks growing in between the tiles. As expected, it was empty, except for the sound of some leaky pipe that kept dripping. 

Jeno headed to his locker, keeping the metal door open like something in between him and Jaemin. The other’s locker was next to his. He pulled out the team’s shirt, placing it on one of the hooks and taking off his top in one smooth go. 

He felt Jaemin staring at him, so he turned to face him. Jaemin’s face was peeking out from the other side, gawking unabashedly. Jeno defensively crossed his arms over his chest. “What?”

“There’s something on your back?” Jaemin sounded as confused as he felt. “Wait, turn around for me again.” Jeno complied. A light pressure ran along a small part of his back. He held back a little noise. 

“Don’t do that, it feels ticklish,” Jeno complained. “What’s wrong?”

“It’s...orange hair on this part of your back. It’s kind of thick, not a lot of it, just doesn’t look like your normal body hair, more like fur?” Jeno tried to get a look at it, craning his neck over his shoulder to glance at the mirror on the inside of the locker door. Jaemin grabbed a small hand mirror from his bag, angling it properly so that Jeno can see. 

He grasped at it, but it wasn't long enough to be held. “The hell is this?” It was precisely how Jaemin described it. Though it was a little furrier and more of a saturated orange than Jeno had imagined. It felt like fur that his cat had, just more coarse and not as concentrated. 

“Do you have a history of your family growing ginger body hair?” As absurd as Jaemin’s question sounded, it made sense. The only problem was he had never heard about this supposedly genetic condition. Jeno shook his head. 

“Maybe I should just shave it off,” he murmured. Jaemin was not here to hear it, though, rushing outside to go out. A beat later, he was pulling Renjun in by the wrist. 

Renjun’s eyebrows furrowed. “I’m not even in this club, why’d you drag me in here— oh, holy shit, what is that?” He was already poking at it, interest piqued. “This is the weirdest hair I’ve ever seen. Testosterone is strange, indeed.” 

Jeno put on his team shirt. “It’s no big deal. It’s just hair. Also Renjun you should get out of here before the rest of the team comes in.”

It was as if a light went off in Renjun’s head. This time, he chose to keep it to himself. Jeno could tell, as Renjun crossed his arms, all while bearing a knowing smile. “Okay. Keep us updated.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> That glamorous love lasts  
> where you sparkle and waltz and laugh before you were mine.

_I brushed the folds out of my skirt, trying to investigate if there were any blemishes on my face. Some of the pink lipstick I was wearing had smeared onto my teeth, and I tried my best to remove it with a tissue, but everything was coming off._

_I could feel my lips trembling. Was this really how I was going to meet my future in-laws? I still couldn't quell any more doubts that were crawling in the pits of my stomach._

_Suddenly, two hands shaped themselves firmly over my shoulders, straightening out my posture. "The first part of making a good impression is the way you stand. You may be feeling anxious, but make sure you look confident." Tiffany's tilting voice echoed in my ears, firm but gentle. A flutter of another rising doubt extinguished before it could make it ashore._

_“I'm sorry," I said, shutting my eyes tight, aligning my feet together. Although the heels that had been given to me were short, I was struggling to walk properly. Tiffany was always the paragon of elegance, carrying herself with great poise and dignity. She wouldn't be like this if she were in my position. "I can't help it. I just… I can't help it. It feels like my heart is about to fall right out of my chest."_

_"No, no, it's okay," Tiffany murmured. She guided me to look over with a gesture and fixed my lipstick for me. "You look beautiful. Your husband will be very lucky," she said mirthfully._

_"I don't get it, Tiffany," I blurted out, clutching onto the hem of her dress, the cold sweat trickling down my arm betraying me. "Why did they pick me— and not you— to marry him? I know I am beautiful, but in all other areas, I fall short. You would make a much better wife than me."_

_Her delicate features shifted themselves into a surprised expression. Then she smiled understandingly as if she completely got me. "My sister, do you want me to be honest with you?" At my terse nod, she continued. "They want to have you younger and impressionable, to mould you into the daughter-in-law they want you to be. Not someone like me, who is strong-willed and opinionated."_

_"I don't know whether that was supposed to make me better or not," I retorted, before the both of us dissolved into a fit of raucous laughter._

_"You may be only seventeen, birthday girl, but I know you're far from impressionable," she said, adjusting my pearl drop earrings. "You'll be just fine. Don't forget about your spinster older sister once you move into their house, alright?"_

_"Of course not," I exclaimed, disbelievingly. "Never ever! Also, you're barely two years older than me! You're far from old!"_

_She smiled again, the lines around her eyes wrinkling pleasantly. "Now that I've cheered you up, should we get going to the car with Ma and Pa?"_

_She held my smaller hand tight in hers, leading me towards the entrance. A sprig of childish glee danced through my body, and I followed her, trying to keep up with her larger steps._

—

Jeno didn't remember waking up. Neither did he recall his eyes being wide open. He didn't know why. 

The air streaming into the room was icy cold, so he guessed it was probably early in the morning. Far too early to get up on a Sunday. Surely an ice-cold shower would help him ease the ache in his bones? 

So he padded to the bathroom. There was a weird omnipresent feeling that lingered as he let the water trickle down all over, into his ears and pool in between his toes. As if he had forgotten something? Had he dreamt last night? 

Jeno exited the shower, iciness billowing out of the space he left behind. 

A white dress. 

Tiffany…? 

Getting married? 

What on earth? Jeno threw a towel over his head and ruffled his wet hair. He took his sister's toner off the sink, placing some on his hands and patting it into his skin. It had also been part of his conscious effort to look better, namely, for Chenle, so he couldn't risk a breakout especially since he would wear concealer now. 

He glanced into his reflection. Then he turned around to look at his bare back again. There it was! The strange orange hair! And more of it! Hadn't he shaved it off yesterday? 

It was too far in the middle for him to reach, much to his annoyance. Okay, it was a queer development, but he could deal with it. The first thing to do was to inform Jaemin and Renjun if there were any changes. 

—-

**[me] uhh something happened guys**

**[me] i tried shaving it but it’s back**

**[injun] Can you send a picture**

**[me]**

**[nana] WHOA wtf and there’s more of it**

**[nana] it grew back**

**[me] yeah like go away please??? gotta admit it’s kind of scaring me…**

**[injun] What if it’s from the curse that ghost was warning about**

**[injun] Should I go and ask her**

**[me] you can't do it alone can you**

**[nana] we should go ask her tho. up for another sleepover?**

**[me] can we just establish the fact that the possibility that could be some weird hallucination we all had**

**[nana] jeno what’s wrong with another sleepover, it’s also an excuse to hang out more（っ＾▿＾）**

**[nana] it’s for ur sake after all srsly just come**

**[injun] Hey I haven’t even asked my parents yet**

**[nana] come on knowing them, im pretty sure they’ll agree**

**[me] ok….**

**[injun] Let’s have it asap**

**[injun] Friday after school. I expect you 2 to meet me at the parking lot once you’re dismissed from club**

—

That was how they had ended back up at Renjun’s house again. Since they had to meet up right after Club, Jeno was covered in sweat, clothes uncomfortably sticking to his skin. In preparation for staying over that day, he had to bring spare clothes, so his bag felt extra heavy today. He dragged his feet all the way there. How did he even agree to this?

At least Jaemin was more excited, although he was in a similar state as Jeno. This time, Renjun’s mother was in the kitchen, cooking something up. They sat down at the dining table, smiling gratefully at her for the food. 

As hungry as Jeno was, he was feeling more filthy than anything. “Hey, Renjun, can I go take a shower first? I feel really sticky.” 

“Oh. Sure, there’s one bathroom nearby,” Renjun said, getting up. “I’ll bring you there.” 

The bathroom was larger than expected, but the marble was aged and dull. There was a large rectangular mirror on the wall, the kind Jeno saw at public toilets, the sides faded and foggy. It was uncomfortably big. Jeno had never been fond of big mirrors. He began to strip, peeling the clothes off himself. Once he took off his shirt, he glanced at his reflection. 

He didn’t remember himself looking into the mirror this much. There were a few moles scattered throughout his back and an unwelcome sight. This orange hair... no, _fur_ , was still in the same place, beginning to grow out from where it started. It was starting to look far too threatening. 

Briefly recalling legends about contacting ghosts through mirrors, Jeno squared up. He squinted. Maybe she would hear him here. He wasn’t sure if this was a part of the curse. His reflection in the mirror stared back at him, almost mockingly. The middle of the glass frosted up suddenly with a sheet of vapour. 

Jeno wiped it away with his finger. Instead of what he was like earlier, he saw his back covered in fur, his arms as well, down to his hands. Something frightened and cold sprung up into his throat. He blinked again, and the image was gone. 

Was he slowly going crazy? That couldn’t have just happened. Yet he knew that was far too much to be just a trick of the eye. 

He stepped into the shower, bringing the showerhead to his outstretched hand to feel the water temperature. Shoots of water heavily drummed on the bathtub floor. He wanted to adjust the heater dial, but he didn’t. He was afraid of what would be reflected in its silver reflection. 

__

“Wake up.” Renjun pushed into his shoulder, hard. He brought the covers further over his face, but the younger pulled the sheet off completely. It was the witching hour; deep darkness cascading through the half-open window of the room. “It’s time.”

For this occasion, Renjun took a tacky vanilla scented candle from his mother’s stash, placed it in a metal plate and lit it up. He used it to lead them up the ladder. The smoke from the candle wafted behind them, up into their noses, having them cough loudly. They had to cup their hands over their mouths out of fear of Renjun’s parents waking up.

The board had been hidden in a corner. Placing the candle to the side, Renjun laid it out onto the floor. Jaemin wasn’t completely awake. Jeno was tired as well, but he forced himself to straighten his posture and shift forward. Their knees knocked together. Renjun’s hands were cold next to his. 

“May we speak to you again?” Renjun asked, solemn. The planchette moved in no time. NO. 

_If she really didn’t want to talk to us, why did she reply?_ Jeno felt a bitter taste rise in the back of his throat. 

“Please? Pretty please?” He was beginning to whine a little— another NO. Renjun pressed his hand against the planchette more urgently.

I-S-A-I-D NO.

Renjun was pleading, bowing his head slightly. “Could you show yourself, please? Just for a moment.”

Jeno felt a hot flash of shame. Renjun could have left him alone like this, but he was pleading in Jeno's place with some undead woman. He plucked up the courage and bowed his head far slower, reluctant, not loud enough to be heard. 

“...Please?”

“And the stubborn one finally lays down his pride.” Her airy, disembodied voice cut through, sounding less agitated than the last they saw her. Jeno’s hand instinctively reached out for the feeling of cold metal, and he pulled the candle towards himself. He got up, lifting the light up. 

Her ghostly face stared back. Heart missing a beat, Jeno’s hand flew to his chest. “You could have just talked to us with the board,” he muttered, frightened. 

She crossed her arms, angry wrinkles on her face deepening. Now that Jeno could properly examine her— she was actually very pretty. The ghost didn’t look a day over thirty. But frown lines were running over her face, the ones that would form when someone frowned then furrowed their eyebrows together. It was like they were etched into her forever, an expression lost in time. 

“It’s easier like this,” she said, sounding an awful lot like a cross mother. “Why have you asked for me again? Have you come back to try and convince me to reverse your curse?”

She leaned in. If she had a physical form, she would have bumped noses with Jeno. Instead, Jeno saw white for a moment. It faded out of his vision. The same feeling of being intruded on lingered and remained afterwards like a drawn out side effect. 

“Ah,” she said sagely. “So it’s begun. And you have made progress.” 

“What’s begun?” Jeno narrowed his eyes. “The orange fur?”

She nodded. “Yes. You want to know what it is, right?” Yet she folded her arms, closing herself up. The equally ghostly dress she wore disappeared when it brushed against the light of the candle. 

“No, I don’t need to know what it is. If it’s because of you, can you please make it go away?” 

Jaemin was shaken out of his reverie, got up and tugged on Jeno’s sleeve. “Hey, you know… orange body hair ain’t that bad now that you think about it.” 

“It’s not what you think it is,” Renjun warned, pulling on Jaemin’s collar, closer to himself. “I called on her to ask if this was her doing.” 

"Yes. That is part of the punishment," the ghost answered readily. 

"What did you mean by Jeno turning into the ugliest creature ever to exist or something?" Renjun asked. "You mean he's gonna turn into a gigantic furry orange monster with this hair?" 

(He hit the nail right on the head.)

The ghost drew her lips together, crossing her arms. "Well… you're not wrong." 

"WHAT?" A chorus of disbelieving voices echoed back. 

Pleased with their reaction, the slightest bit of a smile graced her lips. “Well, I’ll be off. Good luck.” She disappeared again, right in the midst of their chaos, a whirl of ghost matter spinning and spinning until she faded into nothingness. 

_She thinks it’s funny, that petty woman,_ Jeno thought bitterly. _While I’m here with a curse, she gave me on a whim._

“Guys, what do I do?” he murmured as if someone had hit him on the head with a brick. Jeno, innately, had a sinking feeling that this would be the last time they would be seeing her. 

Renjun pulled the candle close to himself immediately, bringing the light nearer to the floor. He was looking for the trapdoor. Maybe it was better to discuss this in his bedroom. 

“It’s simple, Jeno,” Jaemin said, although he sounded slightly uncertain himself. “You’ll have to make Chenle fall in love with you! You have to try it!”

“How will I do that?” Jeno whined back. He just wanted to pass his math test, not seduce someone.

“Like Jaemin said— you have to try,” Renjun said. He flipped the door open. The floor below was a whole different kind of darkness altogether, lighter and less chilly. Jeno thought it was the most welcoming thing he had ever seen. Anywhere away from here, the attic seemed so much better. 

He blearily let his friends lead his steps through the dark.


	3. Chapter 3

An attempt had been made. 

When Jeno woke up on Monday, thinking of the possibility of meeting Chenle, he sneaked into his sister’s room. He watched a tutorial on Youtube on how to hide his eye circles. It wasn’t too much of a bad job, and he flattened it over with some clumsily dusted powder. 

Jeno felt silly. But at least he was benefitting from this. He looked much more presentable, the concealer hiding away the sleepless nights he had before. And he wore his best jeans, the pair he knew made his thighs look best on purpose. He was overthinking about this. At least he was trying, though. 

For a good part of the day, Jeno didn’t see Chenle at all. Except for after school. Jeno had stayed back for math remedial. There was still time before that, so he was just walking around. He was heading over to the cafeteria, where he saw Renjun sitting with Chenle. 

“Jeno!” Renjun’s voice rang out from afar. He was waving with an arm up in the air. Jeno quickly straightened out his clothes at once and headed over. The two of them were sitting at a table, seemingly discussing something. 

“What are you guys talking about?" Jeno asked, squeezing next to Renjun’s side, shoulders bumping together. Chenle shrugged. “Catch me up.”

“It’s simple, really,” Renjun said. “We were talking about the Halloween dance planning committee for this year.” He pointed to the notice board next to the bookshop, where there was a sign-up sheet. It was crudely made in some Word document. There were a few scribbles already on the lines. 

Jeno didn’t have a good impression of the annual Halloween dance. It had an infamous reputation, the planning committee was, typically, a ragtag team of some random losers. The first and last time he had attended one, it was in the gym, the smell of stinky socks omnipresent. Jeno had drunk a cup of the too watery punch and got diarrhoea the following day. It was still a mystery to the whole school how it got held every year. 

Chenle kept glancing in the sheet’s direction. “I want to go and sign up. People are writing silly things on the sheet. Nobody is actually joining the committee, though.”

When Jeno looked over, curious, he explained why. “The Halloween dance used to be great. My brother used to be a student here twelve years ago. He was on the committee. He’s coming over from China this year. I haven’t seen him in ages, so I think it would be a nice surprise!” 

_Wow, Chenle is so sweet._

He felt Renjun impatiently knock his foot against his as if trying to urge him on. Jeno steeled himself together and smiled at Chenle. 

“Really? If you want to join, I’ll join it with you,” Jeno blurted out without a second thought. He regretted it, as he wasn’t even certain if he would have enough time to plan. Almost on cue, Chenle broke out into a broad smile. 

“Wait, seriously?” The younger boy seemed pleasantly surprised. Okay, maybe this wasn’t that bad of an idea. “That would mean a lot.” 

“That’s a great idea,” Renjun said, pleased. “Very nice. Very good. You guys have to meet with the teacher for tomorrow, right? You still need another person for the committee, though.”

“I think I know someone,” Jeno said, quickly getting up. “I need to go to math class. Chenle, could you go and write my name for me?”

“Okay,” Chenle called after him. “Thank you!” It made Jeno’s heart flutter a little at how clear and sweet he sounded. He smiled, then hurried down the stairs. It was a plan. 

—-

Math class had Miss Kwon turning the air conditioner on full blast. Class ended on a sleepy note. The humid summer doesn’t help in trying to concentrate. Most of the class had spent the last fifteen minutes watching the clock like a hawk until it was finally time to go. Jeno stayed behind to ask Miss Kwon a question, so he was one of the last people to leave. 

He was about to head for the door, but someone pulled on his hoodie. “What?” he retorted harshly, turning around. 

It was Yeji. He used to think she was cute once. “Jeno, you forgot your report book,” she replied plainly. Why was she even here in the first place? She always gets As and Bs for mathematics. “It has been two weeks since you’re supposed to have handed it up.”

Right, his report book. He had stashed it away under a pile of books, away from sight. He had gotten an F for math, so he didn’t want his parents to see it. Initially, he had considered forging his mother’s signature, but it would make him feel bad. The plan was not meant to have it rot somewhere, though. It had just happened. 

“Ah, I’m sorry for being an inconvenience. I’ll bring it soon, I promise!”

Most times, Jeno would smile apologetically and just acknowledge it. It did the trick sometimes. He had a charming smile, after all. He didn’t have the energy to fake anything this time. 

Yeji solely raised an eyebrow. “Jeno, you said that last week.” 

He tried his best to control the twitch that involuntarily came up over his face, the corner of his lips peeking up so that his eyes would crumple like how he would when he smiled. “Yeji, last I checked, pestering students doesn’t gain you any extra credit.”

“What I do is none of your business. You know that I need it, but don’t use it against me,” Yeji said, frowning. She was unsurprised by Jeno’s annoyance. She didn’t look like she wanted to be there either. 

It was as if a light bulb lit up in his head. “Hey, if you need it, maybe you should join the Halloween dance planning committee?”

“What?” she muttered, disinterested. “What kind of...? I’m busy these days. Who has the time? If you hand up your report book, then maybe?”

The sound of hands clapping together echoed down their way. Both of them whip around, seeing their teacher standing by the doorway with a knowing look on her face. “You guys aren’t fighting, are you?”

Yeji let go of his hoodie as if she had just dropped a hot poker. “No, Miss, it’s nothing like that, it’s just that—“

“I was just asking her if she'd like to join the Halloween Planning Committee. We're short of a member," he added quickly. "And she just agreed to join. Right, Yeji?" 

Yeji's face scrunched up as if she had just eaten a sour lemon. "What?" 

"Really? Miss Kim will be so delighted. She'll be so happy to see someone like you on the committee for the first time in years," Miss Kwon said, ushering them out of class. "Now, get going. I need to lock up the classroom. I'll see you guys tomorrow." 

Jeno cast a glance to the side. Yeji was clutching onto her books so hard she could have turned purple. She stubbornly marched down the hall. 

Unlike himself, Jeno shouted after her. "Hey! So are you going to join?" She continued her descent. "Miss Kim will be expecting you." 

She didn't turn back, but he knew she would be there. She liked her science teacher way too much to refuse. 

Score! This would work out after all. 

—-

**[me] hey chenle :)**

**[chenle zhong] hii what's up?**

**[me] i think i got a new member for the committee**

**[chenle zhong] really? thank you**

**[chenle zhong] you didn't need to honestly**

**[me] no no it's fine she happily agreed to it**

**[chenle zhong] anyway i know that we have to meet up on a certain day, right?**

**[me] the gym i think**

**[me] i'll see u there in due time**

**[chenle zhong] see you**

—-

For a location that was so frequently mentioned during assembly, Jeno realised that he had never been to the gym before. Physical education was held in the hall most of the time. 

That was why he found himself running late for the first committee meeting. To be fair, it was only by five minutes, but since a teacher would be there, it would make a huge difference. He soared up the staircase, careful to keep his feet in line with every step. 

The top floor of the school looked mostly untouched. There was a garden up there that he knew, but everything else not so much. He passed by a few abandoned classrooms, doors locked and shut, windows tinted black. It could have been the set of a horror movie. 

Jeno started hearing voices from the end of a hallway. He sped up, reaching the gym entrance. 

They were gathered in the corner of the gym, despite there being more than enough space to spread out. When Jeno walked up to them, they all turned towards him, gazes hot on his skin. 

Chenle was sitting down, Yeji next to him hugging a knee to her chest, a hostile glare in her eyes. Miss Kim was standing in the corner, with a couple of words written on the board. She stared for a moment longer, then crossed her arms. "Take a seat, Jeno. You're late." 

After she was satisfied, she cleared her throat. "As I was saying, as the supervisor of the dance this year, I will watch over this project. In the end, you will still need to be the one planning. But first, let me give you a run-through of what you guys need to do." 

There was a chalkboard on wheels behind her. When she wrote on it, the pink chalk made harsh, scratchy sounds. "First, you need a location. It changes every year." She drew a big question mark next to the first point. "Second, we need catering. Then decorations. We also need some parent volunteers to supervise the day of the dance itself. Do as you will with this," she muttered. She didn't seem very happy, either. 

"Miss," Yeji said, her hand shooting up in the air, "what options do we have for a venue?" 

"Going off what they used the previous years… the most popular option was the canteen, I think." 

"Isn't it kind of small?" Chenle chimed in. 

"Well, we don't have any other option," she said. "Other than that, the gym. Here, maybe.”

Jeno looked around where they were. There’s a bunch of cobwebs strung from the ceiling, an assortment of old brooms and desks sorted into a corner, only taken out once a year for year-end examinations. He couldn’t fathom to imagine what kind of deep spring cleaning this place would need to host a dance. Plus the blue floor was such a funny colour, wouldn’t it clash with the typically orange Halloween decorations? It would take ages to clean up. 

Yet again, the canteen didn’t appear like a very suitable venue either. Jeno remembered accidentally reaching out from under the table, only to feel sticky, faded pink bubblegum. Suddenly, he felt troubled. He knew that every year, the dances weren’t the best, but surely, they wouldn’t follow in their seniors’ footsteps? 

“I think we could do it,” Chenle said. He sounded so hopeful, although the idea had seemed unrealistic. Miss Kim looked like she doubted it too. “Can’t we?”

Jeno briefly glanced over at Chenle. “Okay. Let’s do it.”

If he was going to do this thing for the sake of some silly infatuation, he’d do it well. 

Jeno glanced up at the gym ceiling; it reminded him of the dusty state Renjun's house had been in. Would they be able to clean and doll it up in time? He turned towards Yeji. Her lips were tightly drawn together into a line, clearly irritated. This might be more work than she expected. He wondered if she would back out of the project. 

"There's some old decorations in the gym storage room from previous years. Why don't I go look while you guys start on cleaning?" Miss Kim left them to their own devices. 

First Jeno got up, walking to the corner to retrieve a feather duster. A bunch of colourful hairs peeled off at the touch. He sneezed. 

Yeji had been relatively quiet the whole time, only going to the bathroom to take a mop. Jeno spotted Chenle trying to wipe the highest window, but he wasn't tall enough even standing on his tip-toes. 

"Ah, let me help you with that," Jeno said, standing behind Chenle, gently taking the cloth from his hands and wiping it for him. In the glint of the afternoon sun peeking through the window, Chenle looked ghostly pale, lips parted slightly in surprise. 

"You scared me," the younger boy said accusingly, but there was no real bite. There was a bucket of cleaner mixed with water next to his feet, way more bubbly than normal, Jeno could tell. The pungent smell of Dettol lingered in the air. 

"I'm back with the decorations," she called, walking in with a huge box of things in her arms. A beaded band of old lights were strewn over the pile to top it off. She nearly tripped over her feet. She could have dropped everything if not for Yeji intervening to help her regain her balance. 

All three of them peered at the box to see its contents. Yeji was the first to poke at it cautiously, prying out a broken bunch of holographic streamers. Chenle took out the only decent looking item. It was what seemed like a giant sock with a ghost mask stuck on one end. "This one isn't bad." 

It promptly fell apart in his hand. 

__

Jeno beat Chenle to asking Renjun for help in designing the notice for the dance. It helped that he, Jaemin and Renjun often hung out at the library on Saturday mornings, doing homework and messing around. That day was no exception. Still, they met up at their local mall an hour earlier than usual. 

It was a warmer, quieter day. Jeno strode through the mall door, watching Jaemin’s head perk up from the corner, smiling at him. “Hey, Jen,” he greeted. 

Both Renjun and Jaemin had agreed on meeting up there a while ago, so Jeno had just gone along with it. They headed down an escalator. As they made their way to McDonald’s, they passed by a few craft stores. Jeno used this time to eyeball all the items hiding behind the translucent shutters. 

Constantly having the Halloween dance on his mind had manifested a habit of poring over sources for any possible decorations. He kept imagining what the gym would look like on the day itself, but it was difficult to imagine it in any other state. Messy. Dusty. Lightly stinky. 

It was to be on the eve of Halloween, the very day that Jeno was said to transform into a huge, hairy monster. Whatever that meant. 

He had drowned himself into what he could, especially into planning the dance. Spending extra hours trying to tidy up the seemingly never-ending mess that was the gym was starting to get draining. It never appeared to be truly clean. A coating of time had been painted over its scaley walls, never leaving despite how hard they would scrub at it. 

Jeno snapped out of his thoughts. They were waiting in their seats for their meal. “Could we go visit that craft store later? I want to see what we could use,” he said. 

Jaemin was intrigued. “How’s that going?”

Taking out his phone from his pocket, Jeno swiped through his photo gallery to find a few pictures for them to see. Absently he reached out a hand to scratch his arm; that orange hair had only become more concentrated with time, running up farther up his body. It was exceptionally itchy whenever it brushed up against his clothes, getting harder to ignore. 

“Here.” He stopped at a picture of a paper mache skull the size of a fist, the one he was working on with Chenle. “I need approval from our local art appreciator.”

“It looks great, Jeno,” Jaemin said honestly. “You’re doing a great job.”

“Thank you,” he replied, feeling bashful. “By the way, why did you guys want to meet up early?”

Suddenly, he noticed Renjun wearing an annoyingly smug smile. It was the one he had when he knew something Jeno didn’t. An indication that he was up to no good. “I heard from a little birdie that you’re planning to go out with Chenle next week.”

“Right,” Jeno said cooly. “And Yeji is coming along. It’s not a date.”

Jaemin shook his head. “The point is that he’ll be there. You still need to look your best. They still have eyes, you know.”

“What he’s trying to say is that you’ve already worn all your best clothes to school. You don’t have anything new,” Renjun said, crossing his arms. For a second, a self-conscious Jeno glazed over the outfit he had on now, just a shirt and shorts. 

“I’m not talking about today. I’m saying to school. You’ve got to get something nice for that day. Something comfortable but chic. Like you care, but not too much.” Renjun stroked his chin, deep in thought. “I got an extra gift card for a clothing store from my aunt. Let’s get you something new.”

Jeno rebuked, affronted. “Who remembers what I wear anyway?”

“I did. When I had a crush on you I noticed what you wore all the time, Jeno,” Jaemin retorted back. “I always looked forward to the days you dressed up.”

Great. Jeno was certain that his ears were red now with how hot they felt. “Chenle doesn’t even like me that way! He barely knows me. That’s different.” 

He thought about what he wore for the past few weeks. There were a few articles of clothing he was well aware fit handsomely on him based off the assortment of compliments he would receive. But his favourites were that one pair of jeans, tight but not too suffocating; a sweater he had got from Doyoung that highlighted his shoulders, and a pair of slacks that made his legs look a mile long. His friends’ words, not his. That was all he could fall back upon, he supposed. Everything else was far too casual. 

The buzzer started ringing, shaking the table up. "Let me go get that," Jeno said hurriedly. 

They spent some time focused on eating. Then they finished up. Automatically, Jeno’s first instinct was to head towards the direction of the library. 

Renjun pulled on his arm harshly. "Not yet. Clothes." 

When they entered the store, it was relatively empty. This place mainly sold what was in style, so they couldn't possibly go wrong. Jeno wasn't sure if Renjun or Jaemin were knowledgeable about that too. They probably just followed what they saw on Instagram. 

The two of them began going through the racks of clothes. The clips on the hangers clicked enough as they dismissed yet another sweatshirt. Jeno wasn’t sure where to start. “Maybe I should get a jacket?”

“In this weather?” Jaemin pulled out a sheath of a sweatshirt, an eagle printed on the back. “How’s this?”

Jeno shook his head. They picked out as another one with a different design, then ushered him into the changing room before he could even blink. 

Only when he was in the small space, he realised exactly what situation he was in. Immediately, he turned to face the door instead of the mirror. He had completely avoided looking at his reflection these days, and now he was in a small room with one staring back at him. Jeno kept his gaze flatly ahead— if he dared to look, he might see a ghost looming in the back. That ominous possibility had never left his mind. 

There was a loud crash awfully close by. Dread flashed hot in the pit of his stomach. His back was prickly all over as if he'd been poked with acupuncture needles. For a moment, he turned an inch to look, but he froze up. Hurriedly he pulled down the shirt, undid the lock and pushed the changing room door open with far more force than he had intended to. 

He was greeted by Renjun standing outside, jumping as the door swung open with a bang. "You scared me," Renjun muttered, clutching a hand over his heart. Jeno wiped the cold sweat on his pants, away from his forehead. 

"Your shoulders are actually pretty wide," Jaemin remarked, smoothening the fabric out. He was too concentrated on Jeno to notice his frightened expression. With a start, he placed both hands on Jeno's sides and spun him around to face the mirror. "Have you seen how you look?" 

Jeno didn't shut his eyes in time. He could feel Jaemin's warm breath ghosting against his neck, why should he be afraid of some hallucination? 

He was pleasantly surprised at what he saw. It did compliment his figure well, just as Jaemin had said. And it didn't look too prim either. Plus, he could wear it on a hot day. 

There was a dark blue design on its breast pocket, a washed-out colour. He stared himself hard in the eye and smiled, eyes turning up into matching twin crescents. He liked what he saw. 

"I like it," said Jaemin decidedly, turning to Renjun for confirmation, who also nodded his head. "Do you like it too?" 

Then he caught sight of Jeno's even smile and grinned as well, pushing him into the changing room again. "Take that off and return it, we'll go and buy it now," said Renjun from outside, voice disembodied. 

He put his top back on, folded his pick over his arm and went over to the counter. 

Normally at this time they would head to the library to study, so they started making their way there. Once the automatic doors parted, a fresh wash of cold air rushed by them, making their teeth chatter a little. 

Renjun cast an eye towards the librarian counter. Instead of the elderly woman who typically worked on the weekends, it was another, grouchy, middle-aged man servicing the place. The weirdo who wore a tank top in the middle of winter. 

Well, that explained why it was so cold this morning. The different librarians often adjusted the temperature of the air-conditioned to their own liking. 

They found a place for themselves, a junction where two bookshelves met. It always got occupied during the busier hours. Jaemin set his bag down and began rummaging through it to pull some notebooks out. 

Huh. It was actually pretty cold in here. Jeno was the type to feel the cold faster, wearing a cardigan whenever the temperature dipped even in the slightest. 

"Do you want to put your new shirt over your tank top? The long sleeves would help," Renjun offered. So Jeno dug through the paper bag and took the shirt. But his hands tripped over themselves, and it fell onto the tiled floor in a messy heap. 

He leaned down to pick it up, flipping it over. From this side, he could see a hole in the fabric where the back was, about as thick as a needle. He could have missed it easily. 

Eyebrows furrowing, he wondered if it had been like this earlier. It had seemed perfectly alright. What happened? Besides, it was only a minuscule problem. He could always wear an undershirt. There was a prickly feeling, just now, like the tiny pinches of pain that trickled down his spine in waves. Was it just him being paranoid?

An involuntary shiver travelled through his body despite the sweatshirt he had on. 

__

Yeji had a nice car. According to the arrangement all three of them had agreed to, she was going to drive them around. Yet he saw her shiny car clearly leaving in the parking lot, and it wasn’t a girl’s figure sitting inside. 

“Yeji!” He yelled across the school compound. The girl herself was talking to her friends, abruptly turning around at the sound. “Someone’s driving away in your car!”

She took one look and already knew. Her face became a great, angry red colour, features crumpling together as she screamed after him. “HYUNJIN HWANG! YOU PIECE OF—“

—- 

“We go down the purple line,” said Jeno, leading the tip of his finger along the map. The antsy thrumming of the bustling crowd, going at it like a second heartbeat. “Then it’s about seven stops.”

Because of Yeji’s brother’s mischief, they had lost their ride for today. It wasn’t that big of a deal, but taking the train was never fun. Chenle stood behind him, watching Jeno navigate. 

As they joined back into the sea of working adults, he felt Chenle holding tighter onto the front pocket of his school bag so as to not get lost. Jeno felt every time Chenle would tug onto it harder, and when he would let go a little. 

Instead of fumbling around trying to look for a store, Chenle had found a novelty store online - an incredibly big outlet. It would be inconvenient for them, though, mainly because the only time they could go out was on Thursday, after club. This meant school ended at 6 pm. They had to deal with a second rush hour. 

It was a tight squeeze inside the train as well, so they had to wait for the next one. They got on. Jeno could feel someone’s shoulder bumping against his side. A mix of trapped, uncomfortable warmth hung in the carriage. Among the barrage of arms and legs, Jeno was only able to see Yeji’s cat-like eyes peering out. 

They stopped by the first station. As some people filtered in and out, suddenly he felt her sidled up next to him, holding onto his arm tightly. 

“Huh? What’s wrong?” He had never imagined that she would ever get this close to her. They didn’t get along well most of the time. Chenle also looked over quizzically. 

A stray bead of sweat rolled down her temple. “It’s just some guy. He’s getting too close for comfort? I’m not sure if he has bad intentions,” she said. Jeno was annoyed. He had heard about the groping incidents on the trains. He wasn’t going to let another girl become a victim. Not if he could help it. 

“Do you want us to talk to him? Which one?" demanded Chenle, looking very cross. 

She crossed her arms, looking away. “It’s the one with the polka-dot tie. Guys, it’s really okay. It’s not a big deal.”

He rolled up his sleeves, shooting a look towards the man who was glancing around as if looking for someone. “I’m gonna talk to him,” Jeno said. 

Out of the blue, Chenle harshly yanked on his bag, holding him back. The butterflies in his stomach promptly exploded into re-animation, startling him. “I’ll do it. Wait, give me some cover.”

He hunched over behind Jeno's silhouette, fumbling around. Both Jeno and Yeji waited with bated breath. What was he going to do? 

They stopped at the next station. Among the passengers leaving, the man was one of them. A loud thump of a heavy weight against the floor echoed. Then a small, sharp gasp. Jeno, being the tallest among them, stood a little higher to try and see what happened. 

The crowd parted, leaving the man lying there in the middle, planted face down. The sole of his shoe squeaked as he tried to get up, but he couldn't get a good grip on the surface. He just kept on slipping. Yeji muffled a snigger. He disappeared from sight as they sped off again. 

"Don't worry, Yeji," the younger boy said earnestly. "He won't be harassing any more girls any longer." A job well done. He dusted his hands off on his shirt. Chenle must have put something on his shoe, Jeno thought. _Smart._

Yeji smiled gratefully. "Thanks. How’d you do it?”

“Oh,” he replied, a playful quirk on his lips. A small glint of light flashed across his dark pupils. “Just a little trick I had up my sleeve.” 

Minutes flew by. Nobody had left their seat still, so they had to stand all the way there. They got off the train, nearly scattering by accident in the rush out. Finally, they were greeted by the humid summer air as they left through the exit. All of them collectively breathed a sigh of relief. 

Clearing her throat, Yeji took out her phone. “I checked where the shop we’re heading to was on Google Maps, and it’s quite a walk there, yes? Do you think a bus would take less time?” She walked ahead, down the underground pass. Her voice started bouncing off the walls as she spoke. 

Despite their rundown state, Chenle ran his hand along the old tiled walls briefly. But before Jeno could chastise him, he let go. 

She went up the stairs to the opening, her head facing them as she talked. “So, do you think taking a bus would be better?”

Lo and behold, the store they were headed to was there, right on the street they had just reached. It was a modern-looking shop, shelves and shelves of products visible even out on the street, made out of tall panelled glass. Even from a distance, Jeno could see how the interior was painted an obnoxious shade of orange. The path that led to it broke off the pavement slightly, like it had been ripped off a different street, jarringly pieced together with another. 

Her mouth fell open a little. “Huh? Well. I didn’t know there was a shortcut from here.” 

Chenle led the way. “I’ve been here before. It has all kinds of things. It’s a novelty store, after all.” 

Jeno passed by a jar full of frog eyeballs, suspended in a thick brown solution. He did a double-take. "Wait. Is that real?" He swivelled around to get an eyeful of the decorations displayed on the shelves. This was certainly nothing like the other stores he had gone to in the past weeks. They still had the same props, but everything seemed a little too realistic for comfort. Indeed, a novelty store. 

"Oh my god," Yeji muttered, face to face with the mask of a witch. The wax skin looked like it had pores. It's full of warts, as well as severely crooked nose. "That looks terrifying." 

Unlike his seniors, Chenle was not perturbed, not sparing any of the oddities a second glance. "Don't worry. That's not what we came here for. Let's keep moving forward." 

Jeno hadn't expected this. He had bought some things for the dance in his free time out of his own pocket. One of them was a banner made out of little pumpkin cutouts from Daiso. Another was some cheap purple tablecloth that felt more like plastic. It was meant to be for one-time use. In hindsight, they looked rather childish. They would definitely clash with whatever they picked out here. 

Venturing further inside, they found themselves something that would line up with a more carefree theme and brighter palette. It was better like this, Jeno supposed. 

Yeji gingerly pulled a pack of fake cobwebs from the hook. It glittered softly under the interior lights. “This one,” she said determinedly. “This one would be cute.”

“The gym already has real cobwebs,” Jeno deadpanned. 

She threw her hands up in the air. “Jokes are supposed to be funny!” 

They spent time fussing over every item they considered buying. It was tricky to shift things into the shopping basket without someone protesting. Then their budget was scant. That meant that they had to keep the calculator app open on their phone the whole time, scrutinising every price tag and manually running through the numbers. 

“Should we buy this another time?” Holding onto a strobe light uneasily, she looked reluctant to return it back to its spot. Chenle had to wrangle an item out of her grip whenever she got too attached to it, but he couldn’t blame her. It could produce all sorts of cute silhouettes when shone against the wall. “We don’t have enough.”

“Instead of buying that, we could just put coloured plastic over the lights they already have in the gym,” Chenle suggested, taking it from her. “How’s that?”

“Good idea,” Jeno said. How could he have not thought of that? “But the lights are quite far up…”

“We could always use a ladder.” She looked hopefully at Jeno, the tallest one among them. Then she scooped up the shopping basket into her hands, feet tapping as she descended down step by step. Jeno wasn’t particularly fond of heights, though. 

“Do you think Miss Kim could do it?” Running to catch up with Yeji, he stuffed their newly bought items into his bag. Since the store was eco-friendly, they had to carry everything by themselves instead of using plastic bags. There wasn’t much space in either of their bags because of their books, so it was difficult. 

He let Chenle and Yeji go ahead first. Now it was dark out, buildings casting long shadows along the sidewalk. “Let’s split up from here.” She waved at them and pointed to a bus stop nearby. “I can take the bus there.”

“Bye, Yeji,” Jeno echoed. “Take care!”

As soon as she disappeared from sight, Chenle faced him, as if he was going to say something in a great rush. “Okay. Jeno, are you feeling hungry?”

They ended up eating in the street market. Dinner. It was simply the two of them there, legs barely fitted underneath the foldable table, so close that their knees bumped together. Okay, he did that with Renjun and Jaemin, but this was different. Somewhat. Maybe. 

This could be… a date, like in the dramas. All he needed was an original soundtrack. And Jeno found himself entertaining the silliest thoughts, despite barely knowing Chenle. 

After they were done, they strode back onto the dark street, the stars winking in the early night, Jeno listening to his feet brushing against the concrete, scraping harshly. He also kept an ear out for Chenle’s lighter ones as well, pattering like shallow rain. The walk to the train station, all of a sudden, appeared far too shorter than before. Jeno, despite the sticky sweat on the inside of his shirt, wished the distance would last forever.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> By the pricking of my thumbs, Something wicked this way comes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tw blood mention

Jeno carefully tucked the files on the desk together. There was a whole bunch of papers scattered about the library table that Chenle began cleaning up first, the same time he did, and their hands brushed against each other. It was funny how everything became a whole lot louder when Chenle was around, he thought. 

It had taken a long time to put everything together for the project. Surprisingly, it had been longer than they had expected. It was already 6 pm by the time they finished. About time to leave to clean up. 

Since the gym was in such a terrible condition, it would take them an absurdly long time to get it ready for the dance— Miss Kim estimated it would be around two weeks. They had to clock in whenever they would be free after school to dust whatever they could. 

The two of them sauntered up towards the gym. He already knew what they’d see. A whole pile of dark dust that covered every surface. No matter how much they scoured the area, the dirt would magically reappear somehow. But they continued, not faltering. 

“What?" Jeno felt the books in his arms nearly slide out. "What... what the heck?" 

Bewildered, he strode toward the centre of the gym. Light streamed in white streams through the half-open windows, illuminating the whole place. Everything was brightened, but Jeno couldn't see any trace of dirt or a darker spot anywhere. Not even the dust particles floating in the dusk of the sun could be seen. 

He ran a hand along the window frame, only to return with nothing. It was like the gym had been thrown into a washing machine, a dryer and bleached in a day; the walls were whiter than ever. 

"Did you do this?" Jeno asked, chancing upon Chenle's cheeky smile. If his teeth showed when he smiled, and his eyes didn't shift too much, this usually meant that Chenle knew something everyone else didn't know. Jeno got to learn this in time. 

"You did!" He crossed his arms. Had Chenle come early this morning and spent a long time sweeping the whole place by himself? "You shouldn't have!" But Jeno was secretly relieved that he didn't have to clean up more of the gym. It was starting to make his arms ache. 

“I suppose we don’t have to do much today,” Chenle chirped. “Wait, you mentioned the other day that you needed to see your teacher once you were done with cleaning, right?”

Even Jeno had forgotten about that. “Right. Thank you for reminding me. Should I go off first?”

“I’ll come with you,” he said. “Lead the way?”

When they reached just outside the classroom, Chenle stopped. “I’ll wait here, and stay out of sight so your teacher doesn’t see me. She might ask me what I’m doing here.” 

Jeno nodded, swallowing. He saw Miss Kwon by the whiteboard, marking some work on her desk. The air from inside still felt cold, so she must have just ended extra classes. He stepped in. Upon seeing him, she looked a little surprised. 

“I didn’t expect you to come in so early. Didn’t you say you needed to clean up the gym?”

Suddenly Jeno wished that the gym was still dirty. He might have spent extra time cleaning until school closed and the security guard would come chasing all the students out of the compound. Then he wouldn’t have to confront her at all.“Well, my groupmate finished that up, so he suggested that I might as well come and see you now.”

"Good. Since you’re here, let me cut to the chase, Jeno. You have to go and redo your math test," his teacher said. He felt himself shake his head dismissively. This was not a surprise. From the stack of papers he pulled off the top sheet, a messy '10' scrawled on the cover page in Miss Kwon's handwriting. 

It was from one of their weekly quizzes. They always spent thirty minutes every Tuesday morning to do one worth twenty-five marks. Jeno despised the exercise with every fiber of his being. The scores he got for every test always hovered around the same range, from an F to a low D. Jeno genuinely couldn't remember what it was like to get a passing mark anymore. Stuffing the paper into his bag, he thought about how it would never see the light of day again. 

“Jeno,” she said pointedly. His gaze met hers head-on stiffly, reaching out a hand to readjust his bag strap. “Are you even trying anymore? I understand that maths has always been a problem subject for you, but I can tell there’s a lack of effort in your work. You never come to see me after classes anymore with questions you’re not certain about and you skip questions without trying. What’s the problem?”

At a loss of words, he shifted uncomfortably on his feet, flicking a stray thread on his shirt hem back and forth. He had been finding it difficult to do mathematics outside of class and extra lessons because it would give him such a headache. By right it was a practice-based subject, he struggled with it greatly, spending a lot of time trying to understand concepts other students could get much faster. 

He didn’t answer. She sighed and waved him off. “You’re dismissed. Go home and think about it. I want an answer by tomorrow.”

A tuft of Chenle’s hair was sticking out from behind the locker out in the hallway, trying his best to look inconspicuous. If Miss Kwon saw another student there, she would stare. 

“Sorry to keep you waiting,” Jeno said, managing a smile that he was certain didn’t quite reach his eyes. “I think we should get going now.” 

It was nice of Chenle to stay behind, he thought. They passed by the hall, where they could see a light bulb was flickering oddly. Jeno heard the younger boy’s footsteps stopping. Chenle glanced up to take a look. 

“Hey,” Jeno said, calling after him. Next to the stage, there was a stairwell descending downwards to the boiler room, the door wide open. An odd smell wafted from it, something he could even tell from here. Not an unpleasant one, rather, just as if it was a food that had been fermented. 

Interest also piqued, Chenle glanced inside. But the rest of the stairwell was shrouded in deep darkness, unable to let them see beyond. 

Before Jeno could say anything, Chenle was already starting to head down. 

"Wait!" Worried, Jeno followed after him quickly. "Hey!" 

Despite the older boy's warnings, Chenle continued, his feet tapping lightly with every step. It was as if he hadn't heard a thing. 

"Are you checking the electricity for the, um, light bulbs, or something?" He ran his hand along the wall, grimacing when he felt something sticky. Then he flicked the light switch on, a minuscule yellow light bulb hanging from the ceiling turning alight. It barely illuminated the place, but it was some help. 

There was a gray steel door at the very end. Chenle stopped there for a moment, peering as if he was trying to hear any sounds. Jeno stood a distance behind him, uncertain of what he would do. For the whole time they were in here, Jeno had never asked or demanded Chenle to answer his questions, so he was literally kept in the dark. Not to mention how the door was left wide open although there were no signs of anyone. It was like the passageway was drawing them in, inviting them to investigate.

Chenle slipped through the gray door silently into what was labelled the Boiler Room. Jeno huffed, stalking after him. Would they get in trouble for being in here? 

The Boiler Room was exactly how they expected, full of equipment, monotonous and changing. The white ceiling lights were on. 

_SNAP!_

A wire snapped. Or at least that had what it sounded like. In a flash, everything went pitch black.

Fear, cold and sinking, roared inside his chest. "Shit!" Aimlessly reaching out, he tried to feel for Chenle— an arm, his neck, anything at all. "Where are you? I can't see a thing!" 

There was a crawling undulation that slithered under the walls. He heard his voice echo, lightly traced with a faint, unfamiliar undertone. That was definitely not his voice. His feet were rooted to the floor for a while, knees like jelly, but he managed to start moving after steadying his composure. He felt along a metal panel, cool to the touch. It helped him start moving again. 

Why had Chenle entered this place out of the blue? 

"I got it." That was him, for sure. Was he talking to someone else? Jeno listened to his heartbeat throb, waiting for the fifth count...

A bright flash of green light blinked from the other side of the room, briefly illuminating the place. If Jeno had blinked even half a beat later, he would have missed it. Then a high pitched yelp as if he had been frightened. _Chenle._

The lights blinked back to life. Now, with more confidence, Jeno raced to meet him. 

Chenle was bending down, hovering over a man slumped over on the floor. Hearing Jeno approaching, Chenle turned to look, and he could clearly see the other person. It was undoubtedly a technician, dressed in a recognisable blue uniform. 

Blood was pouring in thick rivulets from a shallow triangular nick in the top of his ear. The drenching iron stench of inky scarlet drowned out Jeno's senses, and he gagged, cupping his mouth to block out the smell. 

"He needs medical attention," Chenle said quickly. "Let's get him out of here."

Finally, they resumed making their way out of school. They had helped the technician to the nurse's office to get him something to stop the bleeding. In the end, an ambulance was called. 

Jeno wasn't sure what to make out of what had just happened. The blackout had been so jarring. He wondered if Chenle was alright. How did he know there had been a person in trouble? It was the strangest thing, how he had simply taken off like that without any warnings. If Jeno wasn’t a pile of mush around him, he might have even questioned it. 

Something he learnt today was that he didn't really speak about himself unless prompted. Seeing Chenle talk to his friends, like Renjun, he always appeared to be bright and lively. But the one he saw currently was as stoic as an Asian father (ha!), cute features fixed in place. 

"I'm sorry," he said after a long pause. His big black eyes blinked away what looked like regret. He had plucked the sparkly jade keychain off his bag. It sat in the middle of his palm, tight in his hold as he rolled it around. "I didn't mean to make you worry." 

"It's okay," said Jeno, bumping his shoulder against Chenle's. Ah. Should he have done that? He felt himself tense up, thinking about whether it had been something annoying to do. He only ever did stuff like that with his friends and his family. Speaking of his family…

He checked his phone. 5:45 pm. Thirty minutes later than when he should have left. Fifteen more minutes and his mother would be home from work. 

"Are you going to be late?" Tapping on his shoulder, Chenle's lips lifted a little. "My father is coming to fetch me home in his car. How about he brings you back too?" 

"What, really?" Jeno blurted out. "It won't inconvenience you guys, right?" 

"No," he replied. "Do you live nearby?" 

They waited for a black car in the foyer, maintaining their distance and the most painful silence. When it came up on the curb, they clambered in one after another. 

Chenle's father was shorter than him, wearing glasses, maybe older than Jeno's parents. Various paraphernalia dangled from the rear mirror, tinkling as they clinked against each other. 

"Are you an older student?" He asked in Korean laced with a thick Chinese accent. Well, Chenle was from China after all. 

Uncertain of what to say, Jeno only dipped his head, running his fingers against the plush cushion of the car. Both Chenle and his father exchanged conversation afterwards in languid Chinese, tones sharper than Jeno was used to. 

Chenle was lucky, Jeno thought. Very rarely you would see a parent come to pick up their child after school. They were considered old enough to go back by themselves. It was still nice though. It gave people time to catch up with their family. Not like Jeno often could. 

It was as if Chenle’s shoulders had lifted, as if the stress had been physically removed from his shoulders. He was more at ease, chatting happily. He was on the receiving end of Jeno's gaze, for a good few minutes, so he said, "I haven't been talking in Korean, you must feel left out. I'm sorry, I can't help it, really. My father lives overseas and he's back for right now for a bit."

Jeno, cross with his obvious reaction, slapped his own wrist as a scolding to himself. He shouldn't have invaded Chenle's time! The fond smile that Chenle wore when he talked about his older brother was difficult to forget. 

They're almost near his house now. "Bye," said Jeno, opening the car door to leave. "Bye, uncle, bye, Chenle, thank you!" 

They sped away. The apartment building was quiet in the evening, so Jeno found himself listening to the silence yet again. He thought about the math quiz relegated to a dark, empty place in his bag. It was much heavier than it had been once he remembered.

Thankfully Jeno was greeted by an empty house. He set down his things. No time to shower yet. He began rifling through the refrigerator. The unused ingredients were enough to make four portions of fried rice. 

In the midst of his cooking, he heard the door creak open. Someone had come home. These days he tried to guess who it was through sound. Kitten heels clicking across the floor. Hm. 

To his relief, it was his older sister who had got back from university. He wasn't ready to face his parents yet. 

Her pretty face showed up in the kitchen. "Oh, that sure smells good," Yerim piped up sweetly. "I like it." 

"Hi," he muttered, waving away the hot air that got in his face. "Talk to you later?" 

She slunk away to her room. As Jeno piled the fried rice into the rice cooker, he nearly dropped his spoon, too focused on listening out for the sound of more feet entering the house. It would be either his father or mother first. Or both. He shut the lid, feeling the warmth underneath his palm for a short moment, petulant. Would Miss Kwon be the type to call his parents? They would be too busy to pick up calls in the afternoon, though. 

Regardless of the weather, he always enjoyed a hot shower. He slipped into the bathroom. Taking the towel over his shoulder and draping it over the bathroom mirror seemed more like instinct at this point.

(These days he couldn't spend more than ten minutes in the shower without panicking, back pressed to the wall so that he could get a view of the rest of the bathroom.)

Then he heard keys clinking against each other, true and clear. Finally, his time was up. He wrapped his towel around his neck and stepped outside. 

"Jeno," Mom greeted, still dressed in her pencil skirt. Purple eye bags were visible on her face. She never bothered to put on makeup these days. "How are you?"

"Fine," Jeno nodded, gesturing to the rice cooker. "I made some rice. You must be hungry, right? Go and get a plate, Mom." 

As discreetly as he could, he slipped his food into his bedroom. If he got caught he would be scolded. They said it would attract insects lest any rice grains landed anywhere. He sat on the floor to eat, plate in his hand. Most families would sit together at the dining table for meals, but not his family. It was the side effect of everyone being busy. They just couldn’t help it. 

Fried rice by itself looked rather plain. He had forgotten to grab a side dish for himself, so he headed back into the kitchen as discreetly as one could, shovelling a spoonful of kimchi into a mug. “Hi, son.” He heard his father’s voice, making him jump out of surprise. 

“Oh, hi, dad,” he said quickly, grabbing tightly onto his food. He could have dropped it. He readied himself for a speedy dash off back down the hallway, arming himself with short answers to fire back at his dad. “I’m just going back to my room, I hope you don’t mind.”

“Okay. You needed a snack while you did your homework, I’m guessing?” He heard the television speakers begin blaring as his dad turned it on. The evening news. “Come sit next to me for a moment.”

Heart going unnaturally still, a stream of possible conversations rushed through his mind. It wasn’t that he wasn’t close with his father— nothing of the sort. Had his dad been called regarding his mathematics scores? Or had he found out about how Jeno had accidentally broken the little vase by the balcony? It had been two weeks already, but he couldn’t be certain. Especially with the way his father was... unpredictable. Many times he found himself wishing he had a translator for any hidden meanings his parents would embed into their words. It wasn’t that his father was a puzzle, or some endless maze he hadn’t figured out, but after seventeen years, Jeno wasn’t sure how to deal with him properly, which frustrated him to no end.

Jeno placed the mug down on the table and sat next to him. Today a UN meeting was scheduled regarding the discussion of refugees in European countries, the television droned in a muffled voice. He kept his eyes straight ahead, trying to relax his posture. “What is it?”

“Nothing much,” Dad responded playfully. “I was just wondering what drama you were watching the other day. It seemed interesting from what I heard.”

Feeling relieved, Jeno blinked before answering him easily. “Weightlifting Fairy Kim Bok-joo. It’s very entertaining. I don’t know if you’d like such a thing.”

“Hurry up and do your homework,” he said, shooing Jeno off the couch. “Bye.”

Leaning against the door, Jeno heard it close behind him and he sighed. He felt the hair on his back prickle again, as if he was a bird whose feathers had gotten ruffled. Then he was reminded of his pressing monster issue which he hadn’t thought about for a week or so. There simply wasn’t enough time to do so. All his present issues and worries revolved around school. That could be considered either a blessing or a curse. 

The rice in his mouth became sweeter and sweeter as he chewed. He stared blankly at a small slice of stray fishcake he had happened to slip into his bowl, wondering if he could eat such a delicate thing if he ever grew sharp monster teeth. 

He finished his meal, putting the plates away to a corner of the room. Had his mother been in the dining room, she would realise he was eating in his room. He needed to wait until he was sure it was safe to return the dishes. 

He pulled out a thick sheath of practice papers from his file. He chose to study maths. The first question was alright, he supposed, but once he reached a question from a topic he particularly disliked, he knew his pace would only continue to falter from there. If he stared at it hard enough, would it solve itself?

“Jeno,” his mother’s hushed voice intoned, muffled by the wall. He whipped around to turn to the door, irritation flaring up. She had a tendency to check in on him at the worst of times, when his concentration was at its best, breaking the lulling spell. “Can I come in?” 

He pushed the bowls under his study table with his foot. “Come in!”

She rested against the doorframe and crossed her arms. Already he could tell where this conversation was going to go. The big business. Maybe a lecture. 

“I got a call from your teacher,” said his mom. Jeno, similarly, slunk into himself. Two confrontations in one day? Jeno’s heart started thumping harder. “Your quiz scores in class. How have…?”

“Ah. Well, not good, I guess,” he muttered. “What did she say?”

“That they’re concerning. And she told me to ask you myself. You know mathematics is necessary for your future, for university admissions. It’s okay if you don’t get an A. Trying your best is what’s the most important,” she said. “Are you trying your best?”

_I think I gave up on the subject a long time ago, Mom._

But Jeno simply held his tongue as if not answering to his mother would work out like how it did with his teacher. This time there was no way of looking away, her pupils always darting to meet his own. 

“Answer me.”

She stepped forward. It happened in an instant. A harsh, stinging pain. She had slapped him roughly on the palm. The next time it would be on the cheek, he knew. Her eyebrows had screwed together, morphing her previously pleasant expression into something more cross, angered by his indifference. He couldn’t blame her. If he was his mother, he’d be upset too. 

“Jeno Lee, this is a warning. Do better on your next test or you’re going to get it from me,” she said. He jerkily moved away from the bed to his desk, trembling so indiscriminately from that brief shock of pain that he might as well have been hit with a bat. 

This would be the first time in two weeks his mom had talked to him for more than three minutes. He wished that he could have blamed it on the busy schedule, but maybe it’s just because his parents couldn’t be bothered. Of course, they cared, he reminded himself. They simply had a very, very strange way of showing their love. Right?

The only time they talked to him was to discuss his failing grades. 

He tucked his knees to his chest, wondering when was the last time he had thought well of his parents.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> To the wind she says, “They have eaten me alive.”

“Jeno!” Jaemin was standing outside the classroom, face half hidden by the blinds by the window. “Are you coming with us for lunch?”

Jeno glanced around, seeing groups of his classmates scattered about, ruffling through their notes. A dreary afternoon stillness had settled upon the place, worsened by the poor ventilation during the hot summer heat. He looked at his notes again, hesitating. 

“Our math quiz was postponed to extra lessons,” he said, stilted. “I’m not sure if I have the time to eat.”

“Come on, Jen!” His friend walked in, pulling him by the arm. Jeno let himself be dragged. “Bring your notes along! You can grab a small snack.” 

The queues hadn’t thinned in the slightest. Renjun had managed to snag a couple of seats facing the Japanese stall, his blue water bottle standing tall and proud on the long table. “I’m going to Renjun. I asked him to help me buy food too,” Jaemin said, rushing off right after. 

Jeno managed to spend five minutes or so shuffling through his store bought notes. He tried to recite the formulas to himself but they didn’t stick like how he wanted them to. The omnipresent buzzing in the canteen roiled like an undercurrent, making it even more difficult to focus. 

“Can you be more careful?” Renjun urged from behind as Jaemin haphazardly placed the trays of the food down. The rich smell of curry made Jeno’s mouth water. Distracted, he looked up from his book. 

On Tuesdays, all three of them got Japanese curry udon for lunch. It had accidentally become a routine. Today was different, though. Instead of a filling serving of noodles, both Jaemin and Renjun pushed two thin slices of honeydew to him, the fruit serving that was mandatory to go with every meal you buy from the canteen. 

They excitedly dug into their food while Jeno teethed on the soft fruit. Jaemin, in the midst of his ravenous devouring, let a noodle slip from his chopsticks and hit against the rest. A small bit of curry flew all over the table in different directions. One splash went splat on a page of Jeno’s notes. 

Immediately, Jeno reached into his pocket for a tissue to wipe it away, remembering he had left his handkerchief at school today a second after. The curry was starting the fade into the paper, an ugly brown stain discolouring the whole thing. Affronted, he thought about wiping away at it with his thumb, but scrapped that idea, figuring that would only make it more difficult to remove. 

“Jaemin! It got on my notes,” Jeno whined, peeved. Renjun was also glaring angrily at his pristine white shirt, a minuscule splotch on the front. 

“Ah, sorry!” Jaemin got up. “I’ll go get a tissue!”

They were left alone. Renjun looked at Jeno’s notes. “Is that for graphs?”

“Yes.” Jeno cleared his throat. “What about it?”

“I’ll quiz you then. Right now. What’s the shape of the graph— negative y equals two squared x?” 

At a loss for words, Jeno lifted a finger, drawing a shape in the air. It didn’t come out as a smooth stroke as he changed the direction of the curve halfway. “Like this?”

“Jeno,” Renjun exclaimed in a disbelieving tone. “That’s for two divided _by x!_ Isn’t that part of the basics?” 

“Mistake,” Jeno said. “Don’t scold me and ask another one!” 

Just then, Jaemin padded over, wiping at the spot on Jeno’s paper. It didn’t go away, only smeared and lightened in colour. Renjun took note of this, leaving the table.“That isn’t going to work. I’ll try and wash this off.” 

Jaemin began eating again. All Jeno could do was watch. When Jaemin’s cheeks were stuffed with curry goodness, he looked back at Jeno, eyes apologetic. “Sorry.”

“It’s just paper, don’t worry,” Jeno sighed. Half of lunch had gone by without him actually revising anything. He rifled through the same pages again. At least one of these examples had to stick.

After finishing their meal, Jaemin and Renjun launched into an entire debate on who was the best character in Madoka Magica. Although Jeno had never watched the anime like the two of them, hearing them discussing various character arcs was infinitely more entertaining than whatever he was doing now. He ended up losing himself in their unusually deep discussion, drifting away in the midst of their elaborate answers. 

The bell rang shrilly, marking the definite end of Jeno Lee. Lunch was over and he was certain he hadn’t remembered a single thing. 

—-

Miss Kwon went down the row, carelessly flicking the scripts to respective students for them to catch. As she walked past Jeno's desk, she visibly paused, holding it out for him to get a whole eyeful of the numbers. 

Ten out of twenty-five. 

He felt the paper crush up in his hands, flipping through it to glance at the angry red crosses. He was surprised to see he hadn't got a single digit mark like he had predicted. However his mother's warning tone still rang clear in the back of his mind. 

Right. He still had to go home. 

Although it was lunchtime, he didn’t head down to the canteen. Instead he slipped down the back of the school, a basement stairwell by the obsolete ecogarden. It was dark and humid as compared to the rest of the compound, reminding him of the gym. Abandoned and quiet. 

He pressed a hand against the railing, admiring the streams of light that were breathing through the shadowy air. With a half-hearted sigh, he barely sat down on the edge of the step, perching on it like a bird. Although he could feel a sour twinge settling at the bottom of his stomach, his appetite had slipped away long ago. 

One did not simply run away from their problems— instead, he had to ready his heart to listen through another set of harsh words. He stared off into the distance for a few minutes, listening to his heart drumming lowly. He thought about having his own soliloquy then and there, but that would’ve been too overdramatic.

A pang of hunger hit him. Momentarily, a flash of an echo travelled down, as if something was slithering within the thin walls. He turned around to see if there was anyone else there. Nobody. 

Yet there was another echo. A familiar trail of cold pins and needles trickled up his arm. Perhaps he needed to leave right away. He did so, leaving the noise behind to follow after him. 

—

Yerim had placed one of her spare calendars onto the desk, flipping it to the present month. She had asked Jeno to send her what events he had, and had been kind enough to mark them down. The next day would be a Halloween committee meeting. 

“Jeno?” Mom had just entered the house, later than usual. He felt his heart leap into some isolated part of his chest. “Come here,” she said, blunt as a knife. 

She was sitting on the couch. Yerim was on the floor next to her, playing a rhythm game on her phone. He lifted an eyebrow at that, but sat down. 

“You had a quiz recently? How did you do?”

Nodding his head in acknowledgement, he stared at his hands, wiggling his hands. He heard her snap her fingers to catch his attention. Jeno glanced up, not properly meeting her gaze. More of her eyebrows, really. “Not very well,” he said, skirting around the topic.

“Don’t you remember my warning?” Her voice was cold and flat. Everything in his mind fell silent, suddenly devoid of any coherent thought. Her face had scrunched up, upset lines forming in the middle of her forehead. 

“You’ve been returning home late these days,” she muttered. “Is it because of football again? Or is it whatever event you’re planning?”

“It’s a Halloween dance, mom,” he said pointedly. Funny of him to expect her to remember. “It needs some time to put together…”

“I don’t care about some dance. Academics always come first. I might not check in on your studying as much, but it doesn’t give you a reason to be distracted. You can do everything else half-heartedly. Your grades are more important.” 

At this point, he felt Yerim looking in their direction. From the corner of his eye he could see her flinch, struggling to keep her mouth shut to avoid a scolding. They both hated getting scolded, especially in front of each other, and they knew that. Yet she remained there, a deer in headlights. 

“You’re grounded.” She got up abruptly. “Right after you have your after school activities, come home immediately. No Halloween dance meetings until you get your priorities in order. Go and study.”

“What?” Outraged, he clenched his jaw. “When I signed up for the dance, I gained a new responsibility. Other people are relying on me too. It may just be a silly school project in your eyes—“

“If you have to explain anything to these other people, tell them why then.” Mom cut him off harshly, stalking towards the kitchen. “Tell them that it’s because _you_ can’t even pass a quiz so your mom won’t let you go.”

He was standing, unsaid protest chewed out before he had even given it a voice. He dropped his hands down to his sides, out of fuel. “Stop looking at me like that, Yerim.”

“Ah,” she said, startled. “Right. Sorry.”

—

**[nana] huuuuh i dont feel like going to the mall this week**

**[nana] its getting boring!!**

**[injun] Jaem, we’ve been going to the same mall for years.**

**[nana] what about it**

**[nana] why not change it up, like lets meet up at the convenience store near school to study or smth**

**[injun] Okay to be fair I haven’t had ramen in ages**

**[nana] what really omg**

**[injun] now i really want to go...**

**[nana] YES EXACTLY**

**[nana] all we need now is jeno to agree**

**[injun] He’s been offline for hours let’s just wait**

**[nana] ok lol**

**Read 3:21am.**

—

“You know, you still haven’t said anything regarding our change of plans on Saturday.”

It was as if his soul had drifted out of and had jolted back into his body. Blinking, he noticed Jaemin and Renjun expectantly looking to him for an answer. They had two plates of cakes out in front of them, almost untouched as they had gotten lost in conversation. They did this to him plenty, Jeno noted. A result of being the quietest in the group. 

“I don’t know,” Jeno said easily. “I might have something going on this Saturday, but it’s tentative, so I can’t be certain.” The lie flowed past his lips far easier than intended. Well, it wasn’t exactly a complete lie. He was yet to decide what topics he’d be trying to study on that day. 

Finally, Jaemin took a bite of his cheesecake, crumbs trickling down the sides of his lips. A ravenous bird, almost. “Alright,” he responded, offhandedly lifting his tiny dessert fork to the side as he flicked his wrist in acknowledgment, the metal utensil catching in the tinted lights. He was distracted now, it seemed. Jeno definitely would not have gotten away with such a dismissive answer in the morning. “I know we all have our own schedules, and they can clash with our meetups. But I just have to make this clear— this will be the best one yet!”

“Bold declaration, Na,” Renjun said, more teasing if anything. He had gotten a different flavour this time around. Normally he got cinnamon melts, but today he was digging into a heaping serving of salad, drizzled with sauce and all that good stuff. He didn’t stick to the same menu all the time, changing it up every month or so. 

Jeno was a different story. Unfailingly loyal he picked up his usual cup of avocado milkshake. The places he frequented to buy the drink had become so familiar with him that approaching the counter would have them already turning to the blender. 

If Jeno was of the kind to rarely stray from his typical order, then Jaemin was the polar opposite, the younger mulling over whatever other drink was on the menu he hadn’t savoured yet. Not even Jeno was certain of what he liked. 

And he managed a smile, aimlessly stirring the juice with a metal straw against the circumference of the cup. He didn’t mind observing them talk, often letting them go on and on for a while before he began talking too. They do. He let them. 

It had been about three days since and still he hadn’t said a word about getting grounded to anyone. It was only after the scolding that Jeno realised -t Mom hadn’t given him an exact date he would be ungrounded by. He _had_ considered asking her. However, he couldn’t even make it past her voicemail. It didn’t help that she never checked her messages and returned home late. 

“I have to go soon,” he said, pushing his emptied cup to the side. “I have a chemistry lab later, so I need to get there early.” Jaemin wiggled his fingers as a goodbye, while Renjun just continued crunching away.

The little bells tinkled against the door as Jeno exited. A hot puff of humid air overwhelmed him immediately, a stark contrast from the ice cold atmosphere in the McDonald’s. It was like the string he had been holding so tightly onto had finally slackened with great gusto and he exhaled loudly. 

Sauntering down the hallway, he saw his classmates outside the laboratory, talking in their own little groups. Their chemistry teacher was yet to arrive. Jeno held his materials close to his chest, slipping into the small crowd. The people around him chattered incessantly. Having placed himself among people he didn’t talk to, he didn’t do much while waiting, only brushed his bangs out of his face. They would get in the way if he wasn’t careful. 

When Mrs Im arrived, letting them stream into the lab, Jeno accidentally took his water bottle in with him,so he had to go and put it outside. The worksheets for their tasks were being distributed when he came back in. 

“Jeno?” She gestured to him to come over. Having caught his attention, she pointed to an empty seat at the back desk. “Your partner and Chenle’s partner are both absent today, so you should do the experiment with him today.”

He straightened up immediately. This was unexpected. He bunched up his shoulders, marching down to his seat. Both Jeno and Chenle sat at the same level now. There was a beat of silence between them, the older boy unable to say anything remotely interesting to break the ice. 

“You should look at the worksheet,” Chenle said, pushing the paper towards him. A set of test tubes in their holders had already been placed in the wooden holder. Mildly relieved, Jeno scanned through the instructions carefully. 

Chenle began dissolving a salt in a test tube, then jotted down his observations. “Jeno, what would you describe this colour?” He impatiently tapped the end of his pen against the glass. “Jeno?”

“Light blue,” he replied. “I’m sorry, I was distracted. By the way, Chenle, there’s no need to talk to me formally.”

“Really? Okay, sure.” He could have sworn a whisper of a smile graced Chenle’s lips as he turned, grabbing the lighter, lighting the bunsen burner. “We have to heat up this one, and then we have to… heat up this mixture as we bubble the gas evolved through the delivery tube?”

“We have to heat it while holding onto another test tube?” Jeno frowned. He pulled two tubes out. “This one would have to be clamped then?”

“I’m sure we can do it,” Chenle said. 

The fan was off, and the lab was relatively peaceful. The tell-tale sound of the gas tap turned on to light the burner flickered. Almost at the same time, their gazes drifted towards the front bench where another pair had begun attempting the task. Since it was way at the front, whoever two sat there gave everyone else an eyeful of their observations. 

Unnervingly on cue they heard glass falling and shattering. One of them in the front had, in the middle of heating, lost a grip on one of the tubes, causing the whole setup to fall apart, boiling solution included. 

Jeno couldn’t help his gasp.

“Maybe we should wait for a few more people to try the experiment first before we give it a go,” Chenle muttered, retracting his idea.

They began working on the questions first. In the meantime, the dazzling ripple of glass splintering seemed to travel. It didn’t help Jeno’s fluttering pulse in the slightest. He couldn’t help but think about what would happen if their experiment went wrong as well.

“We have a meeting later,” Chenle said under his breath. He looked back up. “What does Miss Kim want to discuss?”

Then Jeno could already feel his resolve faltering, leaning into the bench more so that his knees were pressed against the small space underneath. The punishment his mother dished out also applied to the Halloween dance planning. He spared him a glance. They would be alright without him this round, he hoped. It wasn’t like he contributed something that they couldn’t anyway. 

“I don’t know. Let’s just wait until then.” Jeno took the initiative, going ahead with the heating. Chenle had placed the solutions where they had to be. All he needed was to carry it out successfully to distract himself. 

The wooden clamp was charred black at the end. It had a weak grip, easily opening with his fingers pulling them apart. Feeling the weight of the test tube, it was uncertain if their tube would slip out too. As the translucent blue flame appeared, he used his other hand to hold onto the other test tube. Connecting the two was a delivery tube, thin in circumference. 

He struggled to hold both at the same time. A little movement to adjust their positions and it would expose himself to the invisible warmth. Way too hot for his comfort. Chenle got up, leaning into his space. “Since you’ve been heating it for a while already, why don’t you turn off the fire and test the gas separately?”

Jeno nodded minutely. He removed the clamp, holding onto the test tube that had been heated, but he let go, wincing. It went crashing into the basin. Instinctively he tried picking it up again, but then he remembered it would be too hot. Since it was under the tap, he could run it over with water to cool it down

A sickening crack. 

Jeno felt a warm presence ghost around the back of his hand. Chenle’s. “Don’t pick that up!” From that noise he half expected to peer down and see the tube fragmented into pieces, but it still seemed intact. 

“At least it’s in one piece,” he said, gingerly picking up the apparatus and looking at it. “The inside of the test tube is broken, though.”

They tried to salvage it. Jeno thankfully didn’t have to borrow the broom to sweep any shards up. “I'm glad it didn't explode," he said. He went to the front to write his name on the paper report of shame— every time glass got broken in the lab, it had to be jotted down here. 

They got a new set of apparatus. Chenle already got to work, heating a solution and waiting for it to settle. The younger boy sat down. 

"Um," he said, catching Jeno's attention. As if trying to remember something, he scrunched up his nose. "That was… unfortunate." 

"...Huh?"

"Oh my god," Chenle yelled through a whisper, using his worksheet to cover his face. "Pretend I didn't say anything." 

Jeno paused, then let out an incredulous laugh, automatically reaching out a hand to ruffle Chenle's hair. He laughed until his ears turned red with the effort, until his classmates were staring too. 

"You’re very… I’m not sure what that is, but you make people want to take care of you, Chenle," he said, lifting a finger to wipe a stray tear from his eye. "It's ridiculous."

Chenle bowed slightly, smiling cheekily. "It’s called being endearing. And you’re the native Korean speaker? Anyway, I can't wait for whatever idea Yeji is going to present to the table today. She's always full of them." 

"Right." Quieter, more faintly now. "Yeah." 

__

It was so cold in this time of night. Every time the fan swung his way, a gust of air buffeted underneath. His toes were cold, but the only blanket he had was too thick and for winter. So he had to use a spare bed sheet instead. 

Jeno isn't sure what time it was. Although going through a few math papers didn't do much to make time pass by, he managed to get through it all, nursing a headache coming on with every question he couldn’t understand. 

By the way the night sky was now cast an impenetrable dark, it must have been way past 10pm. His phone was charging in the corner. Naturally he felt himself lean towards to grab it, its bright screen like a lamp in the dim light. His suspicions were confirmed when he saw it was around 10:30pm.

Suddenly it began shivering, singing his ringtone. Startled, Jeno had it slip out of his grasp and he hurriedly caught it with another. Chenle was calling. 

Jeno felt his stomach sink. Like how it would when his body was readying himself for a serious conversation. He pulled the blanket bed sheet closer, flush against his chest. Picking up, he was greeted by a quiet silence. Yet once again he desperately wished that the other person would speak up first, to compensate for his lack of fluency in times exactly like this. 

“Hi,” the voice on the other end said softly. Met by quiet, it continued regardless. “Are you there?”

At first he nodded his head. Then he realised how stupid that was. As if Chenle could see him! 

“Yes? Hi Chenle.” He shifted in his space uncomfortably. “What is it?”

“Nothing big. It’s just… you didn’t come for the meeting today? Were you feeling ill? I mean, we were talking about it earlier today but you didn’t show up? Did something happen?” 

Something horrible and resentful swelled up, tightening around his throat. Jeno’s lips parted, wanting to make the slightest sound, but he didn’t say a word in case he ended up having his voice cracking. 

“It’s just about my grades. Sorry,” he managed after a long time, a few tears concentrated in frustration dribbling down his cheek, squeaking past his eyes. They continue, glueing his eyelashes together and blurring his vision into a colourful hazy mass. “Please don’t ask me.”

The call ended with a click. For a short while he shed a few more tears, clinging onto a pillow like a lifeline. Then he wiped the streaks running down away. By the time he was done it was if he had never cried at all: no redness or puffiness, nothing of the sort. He had to get back to work. 

__

Although his eyelids were getting heavier and harder to open, he continued listening to the recording. He had his earpiece plugged in, a rare sight. Yerim had stolen the sole pair of airpods in the house, so he couldn’t listen discreetly anymore. 

Whatever time he could catch in between classes, he would try to catch up with what he missed during Halloween Committee meetings. Whenever there was one, without fail, Chenle would send him a recording of everything they had discussed. He wondered how exactly Chenle had managed to record it, but from the poor quality and the sound of disturbed fabric, it would have probably been hidden somewhere like a pocket.

A stray fluorescent orange hair had stuck out of his shirt sleeve. Seeing it again sent a trickle of alarm down his spine, and he tried to tuck it back in, looking around to see if anyone else had seen. Thankfully most of his classmates were by themselves in their own groups, away from the back of the class. 

The recording ended. With a heavy sigh he pulled the earbuds out of his ears and felt the pressure relieved immediately, finally closing his eyes—

“Hey,” Renjun said. He shot up, startled. The other boy stared for a moment, bemused, then hit Jeno’s shoulder. “You look like a train wreck. What happened to you, exactly?”

Slumping over, Jeno dug his face into the wooden desk. They always told each other everything, so why did he feel the need to hold back this time? He listened to what they had to say. It wasn’t like they wouldn’t do the same for him. “I’ve just been doing a lot of practice papers, that’s all.”

Renjun paused, looking over curiously. Then he paused once more, as if he expected more words to come out of Jeno. “That’s all? I was waiting for you to explode all your feelings on me.” Jeno opened his mouth to say something, but Renjun rested a hand on his shoulder good-naturedly with a comical grimace. “Fine, if you need to brew a little more, I’ll leave you to it.”

Pretending to cry, Jeno swiped at his eyes to dabble at his non-existent tears. “You understand me so well. I don’t deserve you, honestly,” he said jokingly. In actuality he felt as if Renjun had touched his heart in the gentlest of ways. But he wouldn’t say that aloud today. 

Out of the blue his phone suddenly pinged. A new notification. It was from Yerim? Which was a rare sight, since the only time they texted each other was regarding food and what time they’d be home because their parents asked him to. Wasn’t she still in class as well? “Wait, let me check.”

**[yerim lol] Jen wtf??? Dad just got off the phone with ur teacher I think. He came to see me because I forgot my notes and he just happened to take a call**

**[yerim lol] did u not pass up ur report book? I heard smth abt ur grades. Just a heads up in case ma and pa r gonna claw ur head off once u get home. Prepare urself**

Jeno glared at the message for a beat far too long, enough that Renjun could see something was amiss. Huh. 

Huh. 

HUH?

**[me] WAIT WAIT WHAT??? PLS CLARIFY DONT LEAVE ME HANGINGG?**

**[yerim lol] I think it was regarding ur scores because he seemed shocked. Like ‘wait wtf my son never told me!!!’ IM NOT SURE**

A part of Jeno’s soul succumbed and died in that split second. There was that familiar prickly feeling that seized up his body returning in full force. Oh God. They were never going to let him off now!

“Jen, your face is turning red,” Renjun said, using a hand to tuck hair behind Jeno’s ear. 

“Please don’t touch me, thanks. I feel like I’ve just had my dirty laundry aired." 

"Right," Renjun said, shrinking back to his seat. "You know where to find me." 

Lessons went by in a dizzy blur. Instead of listening he heard. Korean sounded more like a foreign language. 

Right after class, Jeno tore out of the classroom, not giving Renjun even a squeak of a chance to come and find him. He needed to brood by himself for a while. The stairwell seemed like a good idea, but he remembered the strange noises. The next logical place would be… 

It smelled like lemongrass, the toilet. For a boys' toilet, it wasn't very dirty, he mused to himself. 

He was certain that the meeting had begun by now. He was also supposed to be home by now. But he was sitting on the tilted floor, aimlessly staring at his reflection in the murky mirror. 

All he wanted was to run away. Run away from here. Anywhere but home.

Whenever he got lost his first instinct was to head home, now… he would rather remain in this filthy place. Sad. 

"Jeno?" He heard his name. He hoped that it wouldn't be a classmate. The weight of his embarrassment from meeting a concerned peer would never recover. To his relief it was Jaemin's concerned face peeking through the doorway. "Jeno? There you are!" 

"Jaem," Jeno croaked. Jaemin slipped inside. He wondered how he looked. At the realisation that he, most likely, was a mess, he buried his face into his knees. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry you have to see me like this."

Jaemin bent down to his level, large understanding eyes peeking out behind a pair of crossed arms. "Don't apologise! Please. You're never a bother to me." After Jeno stopped hiding, Jaemin shifted closer, though they still weren't touching. "Can you talk to me about it?" 

Since what had happened, Jeno had not told anybody regarding the grounding, or the math scores. Okay. He _should_ tell Jaemin. Drifting off his line of thought, he gazed up into Jaemin's kind face. 

"If you haven't noticed, I've been failing my math," Jeno began. "Well. Of course you know, I've struggled with it for ages. I'm stupid."

"You're not stupid, Jen," Jaemin said, tone feather-soft. "Go on?" 

"I failed my recent math quizzes. You know Miss Kwon, she loves to give us all the topical ones every week. It's stupid. I hate them. I literally wake up every Tuesday with a horrible feeling in my stomach because of them." Jeno stared at the floor, a brief touch of his reflection on the dull tile. "I've been failing them, so she called my parents." 

"And then my parents told me off and if I didn't pass my next quiz, I'll be grounded. Boo hoo I end up FAILING IT and they won't even let me attend the halloween meetings! It's been like this for a while. Right now I'm just a dead weight to the team," Jeno said louder, indignant voice reverberating. "I swear, I've been failing all year, why are they only caring today! They don't care until I fail, they don't care if I succeed, what's up with that!" 

"I did like a gazillion papers, everything is still confusing." Unknowingly, he had stuck his bottom lip out in the midst of his ramble. "They're only coming to talk to me once I fail again. Then Dad found out because my teacher called him and told him about my grades. He's going to kill me." 

After an extended silence, Jaemin leaned forward, crushing Jeno in a big hug. As Jeno buried his face into Jaemin's shoulder, Jaemin ran his fingers through the older boy's hair, murmuring reassuring whispers. "Ah, ah, my poor baby. Thank you for telling me. We'll figure out a way to help you, just hang in there. Okay?" 

Already feeling his shoulders relax, he lifted his mood, crumbling into Jaemin's comforting grasp with a small smile. "Thank you."

Jaemin might have made him feel better, he nagged to himself, but the problem would still be there. 

____

**[dad] I'm not coming home till 12am today**

**[dad] me and your mother**

**[dad] your sister probably called something**

**[dad] work hard and pass your math test**

**[dad] or I'm making you quit the halloween team**

**Read 6:43pm.**


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I know that I am dead  
> Yet it seems that I still have some tears to shed

Jeno doesn’t ever remember feeling this much like a mannequin. It was as if all of the skin and bone had hardened all at once into plastic, stiff and impossible to move. He didn't say a word, but a violent swirl of worried doubts whirled through his mind noisily like a rickety washing machine. 

_Just press the doorbell, Jeno. How hard can it be? Press the doorbell. Come on! Your grades are at stake—_

But his neighbour beat him to it, wearing a friendly smile of all things. Her name was Seokyoung, if he could remember correctly, a small girl who was in university. They had lived on the same floor for around four years, and yet this was their first proper conversation. 

"Miss Seokyoung,” he blurted out abruptly. Her delicate features twisted slightly in surprise. Although his height made her look like a pixie in comparison, he was the one who was distressed. It didn't suit him at all, he decided then. 

What he knew of Seokyoung was from Yerim. They were the same age, and she had been his sister's study buddy. According to Yerim, Seokyoung was as 'smart as a whip' and 'saved my grades, literally.' 

That was why on the way home, he had remembered Yerim's words, stopping by her apartment. Maybe, maybe she would agree to tutoring him as well? Could a miracle be performed? If she had not answered, he could have been deliberating outside her door for a while like a creep. 

"Miss? Why so formal?" She clearly had just got home, still dressed in the clothes she had worn to university. "It's okay, just call me Seokyoung. So I can call you Jeno."

"I was wondering," Jeno echoed, an unwelcome bubbling feeling floating up and pushing his stomach into his diaphragm. "If you could tutor me in my mathematics? If you can remember how high school maths work, of course. I'm sorry if I'm bothering you." 

"No. it's fine," she said. "I can help you. People say that I have an eidetic memory anyway! I can tutor you later if you want?" 

Recalling his mother warning him to never invite a girl over to their house by themselves, Jeno thought of a way that Seokyoung could benefit from helping him. "Could I cook us some dinner and bring it over? Later? Both of us need to wash up," he said, gesturing to their outfits. "Is that alright with you?" 

She nodded. 

After he had washed up, made some spam rice topped with egg, he nervously rifled through his bag for any math worksheets he had finished. The decision he had made to ask for her help was made minutes ago, not giving him time to fully think through what questions to ask. It would be rude to show up and still be flipping through the pages. Okay, it wouldn't matter? Since he had so many questions he didn't know, might as well bring everything to the table. 

No one else was home at Seokyoung 's house. They sat down at a coffee table in the living room. Jeno placed the thick stack of papers onto the surface with a thump before falling silent. 

"Um, I don't know where to start," he muttered, apologetically scratching the back of his neck. Seokyoung let out a good-natured giggle, taking a practice paper and looking for them herself. 

There were a cluster of questions on different pages that he had left blank— he had no clue how to do them, so he hadn't even bothered to try the first step. 

Seokyoung pulled a pen from under the desk, moving closer to Jeno with her knees. She used the pen as a pointer, tapping on one blank question to grab his attention. "Okay, first, you need to try the question. You still have some fundamentals, so you can maybe get yourself an extra mark or two. Got it?" 

Then she launched into a patient explanation. It was amazing how she solved the question as she went along. She placed so much care into her phrasing that she would correct herself sentences after. It was nice and careful, her pronunciation and enunciation. 

Pity that nothing was going through. She finished her explanation, smiling at him. "Any questions?" 

"Um. Could you explain again? I'm sorry, I don't think I get it." 

Seven minutes bled into an hour. One question crawled along to eight, worry growing with every one. Jeno had asked about seven more sub-questions for every question he didn't know; it was getting repetitively annoying at this point. Mathematics was like that for him. Of course practice made perfect, yet it took him much more tries to actually make the concepts stick. 

"I'm really sorry, but I don't get this step," Jeno said, wincing when he heard his hesitant words. 

At the start Seokyoung had worn the light touch of a happy expression. Now her previously perfectly straight posture was beginning to curve into a slouch, expression so opaque Jeno couldn't read any emotion fuelling it. 

God, he was so hopeless, wasn't he? Stupid. Slow. Why did nothing make an ounce of sense?

He could feel a weird soreness building up behind his eyes. And his cheeks were starting to feel wet. Jeno's finger twitched and he swiped at an eye, surroundings melting away into a kaleidoscope of faded colour. Jeno took a shaky breath and let water drops stain the paper, smearing Seokyoung's ink notations into something unreadable. For a few minutes he sat there until he ran dry. 

She stopped, uncertain. "Would you like to eat dinner now? It might be going cold," she chided. He was glad that she hadn't tried to comfort her. He would have been at a loss too. 

"I'm hungry as well," he said, more to himself. "Sure. Should we just eat here?" 

The spam tasted a little different today. Reticent. Took more chewing to get to the crunchier centre. But it tasted good altogether with the runny egg, so that was all that mattered, doesn't it?

___

"Jen, do you want me to cook you a share?" Yerim shouted from the kitchen. "I'm making sunshine eggs on toast!" 

On days like this, it felt like it was just him and his sister, living together in an apartment a little ways from the big city. No parents. No responsibilities. As if they were two college students on their own. Jeno would be lying if he had said that he hadn't fantasised about it at least once.

Jeno slipped out of Yerim's room, dressed in a thin purple hoodie, black slacks, and a cakey layer of base makeup slathered over his face. A brushful of powder made it look more natural. He didn't have to deal with his mother's too light foundation, and Yerim was more than happy to lend him hers, thankfully. 

"Wait, Yerim, how do I look?"

A mildly disgruntled Yerim, still in an oversized pyjama t-shirt, looked him up and down. She lifted the spatula she was holding like an extension of her arm. "Fine. I was wondering where your hoodies went, by the way." He sauntered towards the door. "Hey, you still haven't answered my question!" 

"No thanks, I’d like to go to school early. I’ll have breakfast in the canteen.” Jeno swooped down to the last shelf on their shoe cupboard, pulling a pair of sneakers to wear. The laces were tied especially tight, and they would take a while to undo, so Jeno stuck his hand out to open the main door slightly. 

Someone had been sitting by the gate, getting up to full height. He was puzzled. Who would be here so early in the morning? 

Against a backdrop of a 7am sky Chenle looked unbelievably homely, the darker parts on his face coloured over by a shadow. A side that Jeno had never seen before outside of school. Though the younger boy had seemed to be waiting outside for a while, there was a bright twinkle of light in his eye that couldn’t have possibly been from the dim lighting alone. 

“Huh?” The disbelief escaped Jeno’s lips before he could think. He didn’t mean to sound rude, but it happened invariably whenever he couldn’t believe what he was seeing. He looked Chenle up and down, as if uncertain if he was actually there or it was some kind of deception of the ghost to mess with his mind. “Why are you here?” 

Using the back of his hand, Chenle fixed his hair, gaze averting Jeno’s. In a hurry Jeno stood up, unlocking the gate lock and joining Chenle outside. 

“You know my address?” He stuffed his house keys into his front pocket, leading the walk to the elevator. Had he come any later it would have to stop at every floor, with the number of businesspeople all in the rush to head to the trains and buses. 

Chenle pressed the button to go down. “Yes? Uh,” he said eloquently. “Would it be creepy if I said I got it from Renjun?”

“Why would you need it?”

“You mean like, coming here, Jeno?”

“I don’t think I could have been referring to anything else, Chenle," Jeno said pointedly. 

“It’s um… I don’t know if I can say this aloud,” he continued, entering the elevator shaft first and holding the doors from closing with an outstretched foot. “Since you're a year higher from me, it’s difficult to see you in school aside from chemistry and the halloween meetups. And I couldn’t even get you to answer your texts.”

Based on his words, Jeno made an educated guess. “So you asked Renjun for my address?”

They left the apartment block and sat down by the relatively empty bus stop, watching a few cars speed by. Jeno had begun picking at a hangnail. He wasn’t certain if he should speak up. Would it spoil the mood?

“I checked. The bus won’t be coming for another fifteen minutes. By the way, would you like something to eat?” Chenle’s sling bag had been placed on his lap, unzipped to remove a pair of sandwiches in an aluminum wrap. “I made them this morning.”

Surprised, Jeno conceded. The wholemeal bread was cold in his hands. He could see a silver of pink salmon flesh peeking out between the layers of lettuce and tomatoes, so he took a cautious, small bite. 

When he looked back at Chenle, he saw that the other’s face was hopeful. Expectant. Jeno couldn’t help but crack a smile, taking another big bite out of his new breakfast for Chenle to see. “It tastes good, Chenle. Really nice. Thank you.”

Turning around, Chenle coughed, holding a hand over his heart. “Good. Because it’s the only edible snack I can make, it’d better taste great!”

He looked to the horizon, sun ascending beneath white clouds and tall buildings. Everything else moved away to let it dawn; a gradient of oranges and yellows blossoming into the sky. There’s something unusually poignant about it today, more restrained in its prime. 

“We see the sunrise every day, but only sometimes appreciate its beauty. Life is like that sometimes,” Chenle chimed in. His half-eaten sandwich was cast to a side in favour of admiring the sunrise as well. “Sometimes we need a little push to start appreciating the little things even on our worst days.”

“Yeah,” Jeno agreed unknowingly. “I get it. I’m going to guess that you heard about my math problem from Jaemin?”

“Not really. I heard that you were hiding out in the bathroom another day.” Jeno felt his ears warm at that. “Your math teacher called you in for your grades… so I thought… it’s okay if you don’t want to tell me. Sorry for being nosy.”

He leaned over and touched Chenle’s shoulder gently. “No, I really appreciate it. Thank you for worrying about me,” he said. “It was my grades. Maths. I’m no good at that. My parents were mad, so I couldn’t attend the daily meetings.”

“It’s okay. You managed to catch up with the recordings, and we know our plans. You made notes, right?” Chenle took his phone, opening the Google Documents app. “Yeji and I both made a comprehensive set of stuff you might have missed out. I’ll send it to you later?”

Struck by gratitude, Jeno stared unflinchingly at the screen, at the words they had recorded for him. Even after he had avoided them without an explanation, they were kind to him. Oh. He truly didn't deserve this. Without thinking he threw an arm over Chenle's shoulder, pulling the younger into a thankful hug. 

"Thanks," Jeno said. "For looking out for me even when I ghosted you. Seriously. I'm touched.” Perhaps it was because of the hard times that Jeno had been going through recently, that their kindness felt amplified. 

When they parted, Chenle only shifted closer, until they were sitting right by each other. “No problem. It’s what friends do, don’t they?”

Never in his life had Jeno gone to school with a friend. It was nice. Instead of cold air conditioning filling in the seat next to him, there’s Chenle. And he isn’t just a _friend_ to Jeno, because just friends don’t make your heart beat like a dying, angry attack helicopter in your chest. As crude as that imagery might be, it was the best definition Jeno could give to it. 

Normally he would press his face up to the window and watch the world stir to life outside the bus. But today, Chenle took the window seat. He was busy tapping away at his phone before glancing over to Jeno. “Do you use Instagram?”

“Yes,” Jeno said, taking Chenle’s phone from his hands to type his username in. “I don’t use it a lot though. My posts are few.”

Most of his pictures were taken by Jaemin, whenever they went out. So they were mostly candid shots, if Jeno decided they looked nice enough for his feed. He didn’t exactly get the whole hype around the app, unlike Renjun and Jaemin who ran a photography account together and delighted in picking pictures out to post. 

“I saw your request. I’ll follow you back now!” Jeno tapped on Chenle’s profile. The other’s profile picture was of a squeaky duck toy in a soapy bathtub. Jeno sifted through his fifty or something posts, mostly following a clean white slate as an aesthetic. Only when he would tap on one would he be able to see the other pictures posted. 

Not a lot of selfies. Scattered here and there. A few family photos. Some with his friends Jeno didn’t recognise.

“You were such a cute kid, Chenle,” Jeno said unconsciously, having chanced upon a picture posted on Children’s Day. “You still look the same, though.”

“Ooh, okay, you’re looking through my account? I should do the same with yours too.”

“You don’t smile a lot in your pictures,” Jeno remarked, after seeing yet another picture of Chenle boring his eyes into his camera with a straight face and a thumbs up in another fit. “You should smile more. You have a nice smile, Chenle.”

“Eh?” Clearly taken aback by the compliment, he blinked dumbly. “It’s not that I don’t mean to. I had crooked teeth when I was younger, so I didn’t like the way my smile looked because of them. That’s why not smiling in my pictures became a habit.”

The bus ran over multiple speed bumps, entering the school zone. Everything in the vehicle shook, handles clattering into each other and making the other few students on the bus murmur. 

“Oh, seriously?” 

“Yes, _seriously._ Why would I lie about that?” The view began to pull up into the bus stop right outside of school. “Hey. By the way, before we go to school, I have to tell you something. I forgot what it was though.”

Chenle pretended to stroke a fake beard, nose scrunched up in confusion. “Umm umm umm. Wait! Okay I got it,” he rattled. Jeno was bemused. “Why don’t you ask Yeji to tutor you?”

“That isn’t a bad idea, but if you can’t tell, Yeji and I don’t exactly get along.” Jeno lifted his fingers to mimic quotation marks in the air. “We don’t hate each other per say. It’s just that we’re not friends normally, you know? We’re working together for the sake of the dance.”

“I heard from a little birdie that Yeji is particularly bad at her sciences. You got one of the highest scores for the last chemistry theory test, right? And she’s good at her math. While you’re the opposite. You see where I’m getting at?”

“So, a mutualistic relationship.” Not a bad idea, actually. Jeno thought about it. “I’ll ask her later.” 

The bus slowed to a stop, doors springing open. Jeno got up, leaving his seat and waiting for Chenle to follow. 

A few students were milling around school. When they reached a crossroads, Chenle stepped in the direction of another hallway. “I guess I’ll see you around?” They waved goodbye to each other before parting their separate ways. 

Jeno made his way to the canteen. Some stalls had just opened, so he bought an onigiri to eat and took a seat at a table. He must have been lost in thought, because he hadn’t noticed his fellow committee member sitting on the bench nearby. 

“Yeji?” Speaking of the devil. She had looked up, nose buried in a pile of chemistry books. Her eyebrows were furrowed in annoyance. Not at Jeno, but probably at what she was reading. He knew that feeling all too well. 

“Good morning,” she greeted weakly. “I’m sorry, I can’t talk. I’m busy.” Jeno walked over and joined her where she was seated, propping his head with a hand and languidly scanning her notes. “What are you staring for?”

“I have a proposition that can benefit the both of us,” Jeno said. That was enough to pique her interest. “You’re good at math. I’m bad at math.” He pointed a finger at himself, then at her. “You’re bad at chemistry. I’m good at chemistry. We should tutor each other!”

“I don’t know,” she said, though she didn’t reject him outright. “I have a lot to do.” 

He moved over, taking matters into his own hands. "Chemical calculations, right? I'll be able to teach you this in _fifteen_ minutes. Swear on my heart. You can't reject my offer then." 

Although his claim sounded ridiculous even to his own ears, he knew the way Yeji ticked with these things. Anything to get him out of hot water. This would be nothing!


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So they tried to bully me but I didn’t cry: I never cried for myself.

_As always, I am struggling._

_Compared to my other sister-in-laws, I looked like a little girl. Well, I am much younger than them, but this gives me no excuse. I pitch in with the chores as well, something I'm not used to. I wobbled like jelly in the heels I was given for the first time, much to their ridicule. I didn't have the courage to bite back._

_At least I was the prettiest. That was a given. I wasn't blind to the way men and women would fawn over me at parties, even when I clung onto my husband's arm like the obedient little trophy wife I was supposed to be. They didn't try to hide their unabashed stares either. They never approached me, seeing the golden ring on my finger. I would only smile behind my stained red lips whenever I knew I couldn't keep up with the conversation and they would concede._

_I think that was how their jealousy began._

_It was late at night that day, with the sound of traffic filling the quiet house like chatter. Mother had left for her sister's house, so I had the chance to try and brush up on my housekeeping skills while she was gone._

_I rummaged through Jinki's closet for something crumpled. There was a pink button down there, made of a cheap material, wrinkles etched like angry lines in its fabric skin. I decided that was my starting piece. Retreating into the storage room to retrieve the ironing board, I settled down onto the sofa and straightened out the clothing accordingly like I had seen Seungha do it._

_First I tried to iron it out generally. I waved the hot application around as far as I could reach. I didn't manage to smoothen out everything in one go. Which was, okay whatever, I'd just have to try again._

_This time I tackled the cloth with a renewed fervour, in more premeditated, balanced strokes in the same direction. It seemed to work. I felt a triumphant smile beginning to spread out across my face as the shirt's lines began to slough away._

_"Irene?" Hyoyeon's figure was standing in the hallway, holding a basket of clothes in her arms. Second brother's wife, my mind supplied. Jinki's older sister often spoke over her._

_I felt my smile fold away like a candle in thousand degree heat. I was still trying to figure out what Hyoyeon's patterns were— better if I could predict what her intentions for me were, behind the alarming sweetness and the perfect facades._

_"Hyoyeon," I greeted timidly, keeping my arms to my sides. "What are you doing up so late? My sister says being up at this time leaves bags under your eyes."_

_She went up to me, dropping the basket at my feet with a thump. "Hm, for someone who's supposed to take care of her household, you're not very good at your chores, are you, dear?" This was a stark difference to the cheeriness as compared her false demeanour she usually carried, and it took me by surprise. Her honey-like words easily thawed away in my mind to an icy, unwelcoming undertone. I shook my head, shifting my feet slightly against the cool marbled floor._

_"I'm trying my best," I protested. If my newly calloused hands from housework wouldn't speak themselves, I would._

_"Having a pretty face doesn't make you a good wife," she tutted condescendingly. I was indignant but I refused to show it. I would not let her get a rise out of me. "Why don't you get some practice by ironing Mother's clothes?"_

_Then my eyes cut to the mass of dull coloured dresses sitting there like a pack of rats in a bucket. I took a deep breath, feeling pride pool to the bottom of my chest and I smiled graciously at her, pulling it to my side. Whatever. It was just a little more practice. Soon I'd be ironing like an expert in no time._

_"Thank you for looking out for me, sister." I dipped my head to not show the expression on my face. Heart pounding to summon the loftiness into my bluff, I looked back up at her again. "Should you head to bed? I heard that Yesung doesn't like it when his bed is cold at night," I pretended to murmur to myself. "Not that a silly girl like me would know! Rather, he told me myself. Brother is rather flighty with his women, no?"_

_I knew I won this round when I saw her turn a blotchy red. "Watch your words, Irene. Don't undermine me for the sake of some dignity!" She stalked away in a hurry, nightgown swishing around at her heels._

_If I was at the bottom of the pecking order, she was second to last. I might have been just a little girl to her but I sure wasn't going to let her treat me like dirt under her shoe. In a moment of distraction, I pulled out another dress onto the board and began my task anew._

___

"Hey! Jeno!" A shadow waved over his vision, back and forth. Are you that tired? Hey!" 

Yeji slowly faded back into focus. Then he recalled where he was again, the library settling back down into his axis. She slumped back into her chair, crossing her arms. "You were smiling in your sleep. Were you that happy to take a nap?" 

"I was?" In a daze, Jeno stretched his arms, letting out a long overdue yawn. Pins and needles danced across the arm he had slept on, buzzing like bees. After a filling lunch and a relatively sleepless late night, his body had probably decided it was time to clock out. "Sorry, I didn't catch a wink of sleep last night." 

She squinted at him."Why? Are you an insomniac?" 

"Far from it," he remarked. "I knock out really quickly. I was just worried about the results of the math quiz last week. You know how Miss Kwon is. She could return them today or tomorrow."

Some fuzzy memory of his dream was clawing at the edge of his consciousness, close enough to remember, but not quite. He didn't recall his dreams often, the only indication he had dreamt being the same weird ache all over his body as if he had been thrown around carelessly like a rag doll in a hurricane. Dreams were usually nonsensical, and usually didn't mean anything, yet Jeno found himself trying to recall it. It must have been something significant, or at least, of interest. 

"You'll do fine, silly," she tutted, getting up from her seat. "Lunch is about to end soon. We should head to class now." 

There was a woman, Jeno thought, following Yeji. 

He was walking in her footsteps, but his mind was wandering somewhere else. A woman who tutted at him like she would to a little child. Not like Yeji. That flash of satisfaction as she turned away. An edge of a win that he managed to sneak in. 

He must have been lost in thought, because the walk to their math homeroom had passed by in a blink. Jeno made his three step pace quicken into a stride, flanking Yeji and pulling on her sleeve. 

"Well. Um. Yeji." He found it hard to string what he wanted to say together at the end of her gaze. "Do you know how long I was sleeping for?" 

"Oh? I think fifteen minutes, give or take. I'm not sure. About five songs long or so," she responded carefully. "Why?" 

Both of them took a seat down at their desks. Jeno laid his stationary and his worksheets down on his table, looking ahead to observe the unoccupied teacher's podium. "Hm. I had the weirdest dream," he said, although he knew that it wasn't queer in the slightest. "It was really detailed. And I wonder how I dreamt that up in fifteen minutes." 

She had turned around three hundred and sixty degrees, rapt. "Can you tell me? I _never_ have dreams. It might also help you remember. Just think as you go along." 

"If you say so." Jeno put his hands on his lap, leaning against his chair as if his middle had become his new spine. "Hm. I think I was a girl? I was wearing really old-fashioned clothes. Not a hanbok, but like something out of a western movie. Looks expensive?" 

Some of it was coming back to him now. He had to keep going, lest he suddenly lost his train of thought. "My lipstick was smudged, then Tiffany fixed it for me… meeting my future husband?" 

"In your dream you were a pretty girl? Or a white person, or what?" She was starting to sound invested as well, listening ear first rather than purposefully shifting in closer, in case she missed a single word. "Hey, maybe dream you is you from an alternate universe?"

"Alternate universe?" Her thoughts sounded weird as he repeated it with his own tongue. "I always imagined alternate universes as being futuristic or just like our time, just with slight differences. The me in my dream spoke really formally." 

She tapped her finger against the round of her chin. "A previous life? Dreams can be so weird sometimes. So as I've heard. There's the ones that make absolutely zero sense and those which seem like they could happen in real life. Doesn't this seem too significant to just be some random dream? Since you mentioned how there was an arranged marriage on the cards, it could have been back in the past!" 

After she had finished her conclusion, she looked at him like a cat who had got the cream. Well. She did resemble a cat if he squinted. However, her theory was weird and out of the blue. Also, why was she so excited about this? 

Okay. What she had suggested wasn't the weirdest thing he had ever heard. Thankfully Miss Kwon had entered then, silencing the chattering class as they all got up to greet her. It also ended their conversation before it would go somewhere even weirder. 

Tucked neatly under Miss Kwon's arm were a pile of papers, the thinnest one clipped by a black peg. That was their math quizzes, probably. She shuffled through her work. "Class, you know the drill. Can three people come up and hand them out?" 

He felt Yeji pass him by in a hurry to volunteer. She shuffled through the stack, for an awkwardly long time until she found the piece she was looking for. From the back of the test paper, he could tell that she had grabbed his. Appreciation fluttered in his chest. It was kind of Yeji to hand it to him herself. In a sense, all of their hard tutoring over video calls for the past week or so… the results of that labour would present in themself in this sheet. 

As she approached his desk, the grasp he had on the bottom of his sweater kept growing tighter and tighter. His nails had been getting longer much faster these days, but he wasn't bothered to cut them at all, so they dug into the fabric uncomfortably. 

With a gentle slap Yeji pushed his paper onto his table face down, steely resolute showing in her stance. "I don't have time to go through the quiz today," Mrs Kwon's voice resonated loudly. "Keep it for tomorrow.” 

Jeno gingerly folded the quiz into his bag, the front facing the other way. Urgently Yeji whipped around, trying to get him to signal to her. But he just smiled and shook his head, mouthing, "I'll check it after school." 

___

**[chenle zhong] how was your tutoring session today?**

**[me] hhh u keep messaging me after these sessions**

**[me] its like u r my mom or something**

**[chenle zhong] do u not like it? I'll stop if u want**

**[me] no, its nice!! i appreciate it. im just not used to it my friends dont usually message me haha**

**[chenle zhong] oh i see, i completely get it dw!! :]**

**[chenle zhong] are you still in sch?**

**[me] yeah haha i wanted to study a bit more**

**[chenle zhong] hey i stayed behind too lol**

**[me] ah why?**

**[chenle zhong] oh because today the eatery i get dinner from opens later**

**[me] you cant go somewhere else to eat?**

**[chenle zhong] it helps me with my homesickness lol**

**[me] aaaah ok!! btw if u are wondering where i am im in the canteen**

___

In fact, he did not check his marks right after class. He had made his way to the canteen. At this time, the lights are all off and all the stalls were shuttered close. A few students were scattered here and there, but it was relatively quiet. 

At first Jeno had spread his books across the table in a vain attempt to finish his homework. He powered through for forty-five minutes or so, ultimately getting distracted by his phone again. He sat himself on the canteen table, legs spread out across the surface, blasting an obscure Soundcloud trap song. The ceiling seemed to just stare back at him as he looked up. 

"Hey!" Chenle, with his feet pattering against the floor, sounded like a welcoming shower of rain after a sunny day. When he stopped in front of Jeno, he bent a little to catch his breath. He must have ran here. Jeno glanced over slightly as if someone had just called his name. 

"Hi," he greeted, thankful. Jeno went over to help Chenle up. The younger boy's cooler hand left a lasting warmth in his own. "It's nice to see you." And he meant it. 

"Do you want to continue studying? I didn't bring any of my study materials though," Chenle said. Shaking his head, Jeno went over to collect his things. Where could he bring his junior? The library was a hard no. The gym too. For some reason his mind drifted back to that creepy stairwell. He wasn’t cut out for this kind of thing. 

A light bulb went off in his head. If Chenle wasn’t adventurous, it would be a surprise for him. Jeno stuffed his books into his bag. “Chenle, come with me. I want to show you something.” He began racing to the staircase behind the canteen, the one leading to the basement, Chenle trying to match his headstart. 

“Where are we?” asked Chenle, breathless. The familiar sight of the football field that Jeno frequently practiced at must have been foreign to him. It made sense, though. Only certain clubs came here often.

At the start of the slope, Jeno took slow steps, surveying the drop. Then he took off, allowing the momentum to carry his pace forward. The white gate was appearing in the distance, protective vines curled around it. He could hear the small space behind the school. “We’re almost here!”

A long, white wall, with two basketball hoops hanging from it. He stopped, watching the imprints of something that had been uprooted from the ground.. Little plants and moss grew out between the brick floor. Finally remembering what he was here for, Jeno disappeared behind a corner. 

He reemerged with a basketball cradled in his arms. “I hope you like basketball, cause…”

Something was off with Chenle. The boy was taking smaller, deliberate footsteps, as if he hadn’t heard Jeno at all. His eyes were still normal, just that he looked like he was uncertain; like he was walking through the dark. “Chenle?”

“Oh?” That was what it took to break the spell. Chenle blinked, still in a daze. 

“I’m sorry I interrupted your sudden meditation session,” Jeno remarked, injecting humour into his tone. “You were spacing out. All good?”

“Yeah, I’m fine, sorry. This place is kind of overwhelming? I’m not making sense, nevermind,” said Chenle, running a hand through his ruffled hair. He caught up to Jeno, smiling widely at the basketball. “Wait. I love basketball! I didn’t know they had a place to play it in school. Where exactly are we?”

“There used to be a rock climbing wall right here.” Jeno tapped his knuckles against said wall, pointing to where indistinct shapes were traced into it, leaving a stark white shade. “They removed it and replaced it with the basketball hoops years back if I’m not wrong.”

Chenle gently ran his hand over the ball, prompting Jeno to relax his hold and hand it to him. As he experimentally bounced it up and down, he screwed up his face in concentration. In one smooth go he hit it harder once, catching it and throwing it upward, aiming for the hoop. It ricocheted off the side unceremoniously. 

“If it was removed before you came to this school, how do you know about this place?” This time he levelled the ball right above his head in a more blatant attempt to score a basket. 

“My older brother used to come to this school too. During his first year orientation I tagged along with him. Skipped the introductory speech, wandered around. I tried to climb it, and he promised to catch me if I’d fall, but I think I was too heavy for him,” Jeno finished, half-laughing. “The next time I came here, it was to attend his choir performance. Then I saw it the way it is now.”

“You have an older brother? Like me,” he said. The basketball he was holding shot into the air like a bullet, arching gracefully and finally toppling into the hoop. Chenle let out a loud whoop. “FINALLY! Okay. Now let’s actually play.”

They played for a while, crouched close against one another, ball rhythmically bouncing from one hand to another. Clearly Chenle was much more practiced than Jeno was, moving with much more ease. To be fair space was rather tight.

It had rained earlier in the afternoon, so there was a settling drench of wistful mist hovering in the air. Despite this, Jeno still had sweat falling into his eyes. He had to pause to brush his drenched hair out of the way. And he could tell that Chenle was getting more distracted as time went by. He left more openings for the ball to be stolen. 

“Chenle,” said Jeno after he had dropped the ball again. “Are you tired? We can do something else.”

“Tired?” Chenle widened his eyes, snapping back from whatever direction he had been looking in. “Tired. Yes. I am tired,” he muttered, rubbing a hand behind his neck. Goosebumps? Impulsively Jeno went forward to grab his wrist. 

“You feel really cold.” It was a little odd, sure, since Jeno usually felt the cold faster than other people. Then he realised what he was doing and awkwardly let go, thinking about what else they could do. 

Chenle must have read him like a book, because he smiled, showing his teeth this time. A kind one. “It’s okay, Jeno. I’m not a kid. You don’t have to continue to entertain me.” Unblinkingly, Chenle led Jeno away, although he was stumbling a little. They were moving further and further, back to school. 

He dug his heels in halfway, much like a reluctant child. “Chenle, I don’t want to.”

“Don’t want to? You mean don’t want to go home? Or what?”

Damn. Was he that obvious? Jeno bit his bottom lip, beginning to walk willingly again. A note of dread picked up in the depths of his stomach, crawling back up. An impending doom, as if his mom was just waiting for him to cross a line to lunge for his neck. "How did you tell?" 

"Deduction," Chenle said simply, padding to the canteen table where Jeno's bag was, hauling it up onto his shoulders. "I'll go get my bag from the lobby!"

What was Jeno up to? He sauntered after Chenle, all the way out of the school gate and onto the street. To get home, he would need to cross the road to take the bus stop opposite. And they do end up taking the bus to Jeno’s place, much to his annoyance. Although Chenle would be coming with him to his house a second time, he hadn’t seen much of Chenle’s own at all. Not fair. Still Jeno couldn’t help his nervous touches, feeling an awful lot like a sheep to the slaughter. 

It was scary. Chenle there didn't make him feel better either. He was reminded of who he was going to disappoint. With Chenle standing outside his apartment, and Jeno heading in to confront somebody… It was exactly how it was like with Miss Kwon, wasn’t it? 

Before he went into his apartment, Chenle pulled him on the sleeve to stop him for a moment. Hesitating, Chenle seemed like he made up his mind right there.“Wait,” he said, digging through the front pocket of his bag. From it he fished out his wallet, unhooking something and pressing it firmly into Jeno’s hand. “For a little courage.”

It was a thin jade cylinder on a keyring, tingling in Jeno’s palm like electricity where Chenle had left it. Seizing up as he closed his hand into a fist, he took his time to push the door open. In spite of himself, he briefly turned around to face Chenle. 

“I didn’t tell you why I wanted to stay behind, right? I failed my math quiz,” Jeno said in the slightest whisper, in case his parents could hear. 

As if Jeno had told him water was wet, Chenle frowned, but he couldn’t hide the quirk on his lips, cupping a hand over his mouth and saying, “I guessed so. I’m getting better at reading you, Jen.” 

Suddenly, Jeno was sucked out of one world and violently shoved into the next, cooling wind shutting out as he shut the door behind him. The house was much, much stuffier than outside. He had never gotten used to it even after three years. The television was blaring and a familiar figure was sitting there, tapping his foot impatiently. Jeno gulped. 

“Dad?”

“Jeno!” Dad sprung up, hurrying over and checking Jeno all over. His tone was scolding, nothing too severe. Yet. “Where were you? It’s way past the time you promised you’d be home!”

“I was at school,” Jeno murmured, sounding much unlike himself as his father fussed over him like a worried chicken. “I didn’t want to come home.”

Dad stared at him, malleable. “Is this about that math quiz?”

“Yes. Yes it is. I didn’t pass it this time,” he said, placing his arms over his stomach. Are you going to make me quit the halloween dance?” 

A pause. “Does this dance mean a lot to you?” 

To Jeno’s ears, those words sound absolutely absurd. Of course it did! It had been, initially, something he used to get closer to Chenle for the sake of the curse, but as he had placed more careful time piecing it together, he decided he wanted to see it through. He hated his instinctive, minute nod at the words. It felt vulnerable, exposing, almost weak. He wasn’t used to baring his neck like this. 

“I was scared.” Jeno blinked behind sore eyes, squeezing the jade keychain in his hand so hard it was going to leave a mark. “I was scared of what you’d say.”

“I’m going to be honest, Jeno. I don’t care whether you do well or badly in school. I just want you to live an honest life. I just want to know. Did you try your best?” 

“I did. I really did, I swear,” Jeno pleaded. “I’m sorry I disappointed you. Sorry.” And he looked at the floor vacantly, endlessly finding aimless patterns in the flooring. He imagined the outline of Chenle standing outside, eyes tracing over the shape of their unit number again and again, waiting for his sentence.

Two hands place themselves by Jeno’s shoulders, firm. He found himself looking at his Dad again, and only now he can decipher the look on his father’s face. Worry. 

“Why so startled? I’m not all stoic and stone-faced, you know,” he said weakly. “As long as you keep working hard, and keep on going even if you falter, I believe you’ll improve. Just promise me you’ll continue doing what you’re doing?”

Okay. Not exactly what he suggested, with staying up late. If Jeno does another math practice paper for the nth time this week, he will cry, most certainly. But the relief he felt was immense, the heavy weight looming over his heart had been swept up, up and away into weightlessness with great gusto. God, how much he’d give to sweep his dad into a big hug. There was still the prickly monster hairs on his back. He wasn’t going to risk it.

“I promise! Does that mean I can continue being in the dance committee?” At his father’s approval, Jeno turned to the door and shouted, joy in his tone ringing clear and true, “I’m staying!”

“That's great! Can you give me back my keychain now?” 

Despite his puzzled father's watchful gaze he managed to slip the jade back to Chenle through a crack in the door. Before the younger boy had taken it from him, he gave Jeno's hand a tight squeeze, then disappeared from sight.

There was that tingling feeling again, though the keychain was out of his palm he felt it linger. Jeno wasn't sure why. 

He opened the windows to let the breeze flutter into the airless living room, facing Dad. "I'll make dinner?" 

His father smiled, shaking his head. "Let's do it together. I want to see if your cooking improved. Okay?" 

That night, there were muggy puffs of hot steam filling the kitchen as they cooked. They prepared a sumptuous stew, filled with bits and pieces of beef and potato, eating together on the coffee table. 

Yerim and Mum had gotten home on time to enjoy the meal; they crowded around on the couch and sifted through Netflix for a good show afterwards, still chattering and smiling. Jeno submerged himself in its warm atmosphere. Maybe he drowned a little, in his wish for them to talk more. Find out what parts of them fit and what don't. What they can do for each other. But that time was more than enough for him, today. 


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A new part of the story begins. *squints at story notes* according to my notes... from months ago.

“You know, Jen, we’ve completely forgotten about your little curse problem,” mused Jaemin, nose buried in Chess For Dummies. Renjun had pulled out a dusty chess set from the corner of the attic a week ago. Apparently the ghost had complained to him that the sight of it drove her crazy because it reminded her of things she could not play. In the first place, he didn't know why his best friend remained in contact with that undead she-bat, nor did he want to prod further. 

Amused, Jeno continued jotting down his notes. “Is that what we’re calling it now? I don’t mind, to be honest. It’s not like we have the time these days. With me, uh, crying over my maths grades and all.”

Jaemin’s gaze softened, flicking back to his book. “It’s a rite of passage. I don’t regret holding this crybaby’s hand through that even a bit. At least you managed to thrash soccer practice as a way to relieve pressure. Math can take a backseat for now. Friday’s final match is going to be a breeze for you.”

He felt heat flare into his skin at its mention. Among everything else, soccer was one of the constants in his life, something he could throw himself into mindlessly, nothing to fuss about. Teachers often say that exercise was a good way to relieve pressure, after all. He wasn’t a regular player so there was no stress regarding formal matches. Unexpectedly he got subbed in for the final match of the season. A complete accident at that. 

“I don’t know,” he said, zoning out. Suddenly the blue sky outside appeared much more inviting than usual. He wondered if he could try knocking his head against the window and knock himself for the entirety of the match so he won’t need to play. 

“You’re not going to mess anything up,” Jaemin said with uncharacteristic sternness, rolling up a sleeve and lightly knocking the back of Jeno’s neck. Miffed, Jeno shot back a glare while rubbing at where he had just struck. “Stop brooding! You’re going to be fine.”

Subconsciously, Jeno knew he was right. Committed muscle memory worked in his favour more than once, having fumbled through several class presentations by letting his mouth run by itself. That made him annoyed, so he scowled, causing his hand to become unsteady and leave an ugly streak instead of the intended letter. He turned around to face his back towards Jaemin. 

“You know I’m right.”

“You’re sounding like Renjun,” Jeno shot back, hand twitching. 

“I learn from the best!"

__

"I DID IT!" Jaemin yelled, leaping, and crashing into Jeno, knocking the air out of him. “WE DID IT!”

The whole team gathered together, slinging their arms over each other's shoulders. Xuxi, their captain, let out a loud shout of triumph, evoking a cacophony of roars. The shower of cheers from the spectators drowned out all the fatigue Jeno felt; in that moment he was at the top of the world. 

Although Jeno had to stall to wait for everyone to leave the locker room in order to change without extra eyes, he still wore a gigantic grin he couldn’t put away. He folded his sweaty clothes into his bag in favour of a sweater. It had begun raining right after the match. He wouldn’t look too out of place. 

When he left the lockers, Renjun was standing just outside the shelter with an umbrella. At Jeno’s arrival, he waved. “You two did great today! Stars of the match, I might add.” Jeno rolled his eyes good-naturedly at his friend’s exaggeration, bumping his shoulder against Renjun as they trod through the rain. The stones on the pavement took on a gleam, moistened by water. 

“Jaemin scored the last goal, so he deserves the title of star more than me. I thought we were going to tie,” Jeno laughed, taking the umbrella from Renjun. “They’re all gone already. Have they gone to Candy’s?”

It was tradition to visit the nearby ice cream parlor whenever they had a winning match. Well, their seniors hadn’t passed it down. It just happened to be a thing since the year prior, after one particular club bonding night. They had played a movie where the American football team had visited a yogurt shop after a match. Xuxi had declared they should do the same, and then it had become a ritual, surprisingly. 

Renjun nodded as they walked into the car park. “My mom is here with me for today. She can give us a ride there.” 

For the time they had been in the car, Jeno sat next to the driver’s seat and tried his best to discreetly stick himself in front of the air conditioner. As their car pulled up on the curb, Jeno could spy a large cluster of people around the storefront, dressed in their school colours. Renjun’s mother dropped them off, promising to pick up Renjun later.

Despite the crowd, he managed to get through. They parted like the red sea upon recognising him as a player on the team. Smack in the middle of the parlor was their table, where all his teammates were, littered with cups of ice cream. 

“Jaemin! Your save was great,” said Renjun, slapping him on the shoulder. Among the rest of the tall players, he stuck out like a mouse among canopy trees, but they welcomed him regardless. “Everyone in the stands held their breath during that part. I’m not joking.”

If Jeno had been in Jaemin’s position, he would have waved it off, embarrassed. Jaemin only smiled ear to ear, so wide that it completely filled the width of his face and could go no more. Jeno could have sworn he saw a girl swooning in the corner. “You guys are seriously inflating my ego! People I don’t even know are approaching me to talk about it,” he exclaimed, eliciting laughter from their team. 

“You can be arrogant about it just for today, Na. Just don’t carry it with you to the next practice,” Xuxi said jokingly, scooping a spoonful of ice cream into his mouth. “Also, Jeno, you just got here, right? Go get yourself a scoop with this.” He fished out a crumpled five dollar bill out of his jean pocket. “I’m treating everyone.”

Thankfully, the line wasn’t excessively long. Jeno didn’t enjoy sweet things, so he picked out a vanilla scoop for the hell of it. While he was waiting to pay, he noticed the girl behind him. A schoolmate, it seemed, wearing a large jersey over her tiny cheerleader uniform. She was hovering over the glass display case, flittering over the multiple flavours. Their eyes met, but before Jeno could look away, she asked a question. 

“I’m very indecisive,” she remarked casually without blinking, as if she was talking to a friend. “I can’t decide on mango or blueberry. Could you pick one for me?”

How did people do this kind of thing? Randomly talking to strangers they never met? Jeno would never understand. He pushed aside his stray thoughts. “Mango?”

“Mango it is!” she crowed. He picked up his flavour, returning to Xuxi’s side to give back whatever change he had left. 

He was halfway through his ice cream, listening in to some of his teammates’ chatter, though he wasn’t paying attention. Sanha’s voice cut through his inattention, clear and boyish. “Don’t you agree, Jeno?”

“Huh?” Jeno dropped his spoon onto the floor. “Crap!”

When he rose to his feet, Sanha caught him up. “What I was saying was that Jimin is the prettiest girl on the cheerleading team! And then I asked you for your opinion.”

Upon hearing the word ‘pretty,’ he unwillingly let his train of thought run stagnant. A pale face had popped up in his mind immediately, although he couldn’t exactly classify it as, well, pretty. More cute if anything, with a lovely smile and a button nose. 

“Jimin is pretty, sure. But have you seen Chaewon? She looks just like a doll. This is no contest for me,” Eric interrupted with a wave of his hand. 

Both of them clearly had a type, Jeno thought to himself. It was simply a matter of personal preference. Nothing worth harassing him about, surely. “I’m literally the last person you should be asking, you guys,” he said pointedly. “I’m gay.”

“Yes you’re gay, but you have eyes. You don’t have to be an artist to enjoy art,” Jaemin deadpanned. That invited a round of raucous laughter from the rest of the team. “Pick a girl to appease them and get on with it.”

Their youngest teammate, Guanlin, abruptly cut in, eager for others to hear his input.“Wait. I think you have failed to consider one more girl. Chingyi Wang. The girl with blue streaks with her hair.”

At this the boys began murmuring at once, taken aback. It was like they hadn’t thought of her at all. They tried to repeat her name, but it was completely butchered by the non-Chinese speakers, so Guanlin had to correct them. Jeno realised that the indecisive girl who was after him in the queue was Chingyi, because of her eye-catching hair. 

“Chingyi? She was the girl buying ice cream after me.”

“So that’s her name? I’m not going to lie, I was staring at her before the match. She’s pretty as well. Plus she’s tall and has great legs,” Sanha said. There was a chorus of agreements among them. Apparently most of them had taken note of her too. They finally had a name to this beauty. Then their gaze naturally shifted to Xuxi’s direction expectantly.

Although he looked annoyed, he didn’t show it in his tone. “I’m from Hong Kong, she’s from Taiwan. I don’t know her personally. I’m Chinese but it doesn’t mean I know every other Chinese person in the school. Geez.”

They began talking among themselves again, with Jaemin chiming in this time. Jeno certainly didn’t want to hear about whoever girl his friend thought had the best derriere, instead choosing to slide into an obscure corner of the parlor. There were much less people here. To his surprise, he spotted Chingyi sitting at the table next to him. Jeno had only managed to see a little of her. Now that he was much closer he tried to look discreetly at her. 

Well, she was definitely beautiful, even so from a distance. There was a slight tinge of makeup on her spotless skin. He couldn’t help but be reminded of Yerim telling him how products like eyeshadow and blusher worked best on a smooth, blank canvas of a face, like Chingyi’s. There was an empty cup on her table, and she was staring off into space. Maybe he should talk to her? Since she didn’t have any company, perhaps it would be less awkward, since he wasn’t interrupting anything. 

“What are you looking at?” he asked, promptly grimacing after hearing himself. He wasn’t cut out for these kinds of things. Renjun could talk to strangers, striking up an engaging conversation in a matter of minutes, whenever he wanted to. 

She blinked owlishly. “Did you say that?” She tilted her head to side a little, much like a confused puppy. Her already rounded eyes were widened further. “I wasn’t really looking at anything. I’m sorry. By the way, shouldn’t you be celebrating with your teammates?”

“I don’t make good company,” he said. “I didn’t have much to add to the, erm, in the topic they were discussing. Not knowledgeable enough.”

Chingyi shook her head. “We are often our worst critics. I do enjoy the occasional peace and quiet. No harm if you like it more than most,” she said. “May I know your name?”

“It’s Jeno Lee. I don’t think I’ve seen you before. I don’t talk to people outside my level, generally. You must be in the cheerleading club? The displays your members pulled off today were crazy!” 

Clearly pleased, she hummed. “Thank you. I appreciate it. I’m glad that someone noticed those. Some of the audience appeared to be more preoccupied with ogling my friends. Yeah they’re pretty but I’d prefer them looking at our formations rather than the face. I didn’t learn how to do a split for nothing! Wait, I nearly forgot to introduce myself. My name is Chingyi.” 

Jeno was glad at how easily she had headed their exchange. Without the perpetual unease he carried from his grades, he found his initially poor temperament ebbing over the past few days. It proved to be in his favour in the team’s last minute preparations for their final match for second-runner up, as he could concentrate much better during practices. He could picture a friendship with the girl. 

“How do I say your name? I wouldn’t like to say it wrongly, and it seems like there’s no Korean way to say yours.”

“I tried giving myself a Korean name. Nothing sounded close enough, though. Just call me Soso,” she said cheerily. Jeno had thought that she would be more pensive, but it appeared that she had loosened up, eyes crinkling easily in the beginnings of a smile. She reminded him of a certain someone. 

He learnt a few more things about Soso. Like how she was from Taipei, or how she was part of a dance team which partook in busking. Eventually enough time slipped away that Renjun had ended up sitting with them. Jeno had informed Renjun how both him and Soso were able to speak in Chinese, yet they had continued talking away in Korean. He was secretly glad he wasn’t left out. 

“I’m feeling nosy today,” said Renjun suddenly. Pointing an incriminating finger at Jeno’s teammates, he continued. “They were discussing who was the prettiest girl on your cheerleading squad, and your name got brought up. Also I think Sanha said he liked your legs? I can’t remember what he said exactly.”

Soso stiffened and shifted away. Her friendly demeanor fell away. “You’re not here to hit on me, are you? That would be awful.”

“Not at all,” he said quickly. He glanced towards the clock, then turned to Renjun again. “I think it’s time to go. Renjun’s mom is coming to fetch us soon. I’ll see you around, Soso!”

As Renjun failed to hide his confusion, Jeno tugged on his sleeve as they walked out of the parlor. Hopefully she wouldn’t notice his expression. It was still rainy, falling with greater intensity than earlier. A gust of wind carried the droplets towards them, wetting them despite them standing under the shelter. Jeno could feel Renjun’s prodding gaze warm on his side.

“My mother isn’t going to come for another ten minutes. Did you know?” Renjun asked. He wiped the wetness off his shoulders with a tissue. “Take one.”

“Thanks.” Quiet, Jeno took up the offer, drying his face as well. Then for another beat he paused. “Renjun, could I ask you something?”

A car sped by. “Ask away.”

“If Chenle knew the truth...why I approached him in the first place, do you think he’d be upset?”

“So this is what this is about?” Renjun moved over and slung an arm over Jeno’s shoulders.“I forget how much of a worrywart you are, Jen. Were you reminded because of Soso’s words?”

Jeno felt bad again. Great. Why did it always seem like he was always weighing his friends down with his problems these days? Sure, _‘that’s what friends are for,’_ or whatever. It must be annoying, though. “It makes me uncomfortable how well you can read me,” he laughed. “Like that. I’m assuming that I manage to solve my big monster problem. What am I going to tell him then?”

About to open his mouth, Renjun flinched at the tinkling sound of the doors opening echoed behind them. Jaemin strode through, looking off and zooming in on Renjun and Jeno. “Hey you two, what movie do you want to watch tonight? Wait. I’m interrupting something, aren’t I?"

“Most definitely,” Renjun drawled. He resumed his stance. “You’re very thoughtful, Jeno. I think, hypothetically, if he does confess to you in the end, and you do tell him, he’ll understand. I think he would understand. You’ll cross that bridge when you get there.”

Before Renjun could carry on with his inquisition, he heard the sound of wheels scraping across the road. He was saved by Renjun’s mother in time. Jeno must have hopped on way too eagerly, because he could feel his friend squeezing in closer than usual in their jostle to move into the backseat, as if he wanted to read between the lines. 

The house they had returned to from the beginning had been cleaned up much more than Jeno had remembered. They had come back here this time for a sleepover, once again, so maybe that was why he couldn’t help but compare. As he climbed up the staircase, he admired the sheen of the newly polished crystals off the chandelier.

In the morning he and Jaemin had left most of their stuff in Renjun’s room. In this layout they would have to sleep on futons laid out on the floor. Although the room was much, much bigger than his own, it looked an awful lot smaller than it was with everything extra. Jeno wondered if they were starting to get too old for sleepovers. Although he tried his best to get his legs over the obstructions on the floor, he ended up trodding on a blanket anyway. 

If Renjun felt like it, some days he would sleep on the floor as well. The days he didn't, Jeno would sleep on the part close to the window, next to his desk. The wind there was refreshing, and anywhere else always felt too stuffy. He ungracefully sat down on his futon, having already taken a shower; his back of his ears were cold from the remaining wetness. He sunk his feet into the fabric and tried to lie down. 

Something hard. Cardboard? He recoiled from the pain, snapping up when his head hit whatever object he happened to lay on. Unsurprisingly enough he saw it was another one of Renjun's spirit communication frivolities— an imported tarot card set, out of all things. Well, it wasn't as eccentric as compared to some of his other purchases. At least Jeno knew what they were. 

Curiosity got the better of him. He titled the package at an angle to gently shake out the cards. There were so many that they slowly eased out in a methodical slide. When Jeno picked up a card and held it up to the light, he could see how the designs sparkled softly. He was skeptical about these tarot cards but he could still admire them regardless. Renjun must have paid a pretty penny for these.

“You’ve found my stash,” said Renjun as he strode into the room, towel turban haphazardly balancing upon his head. Jeno would laugh at the incredulity at it all; before this he would have simply cast a judgemental eye. "I've wanted to use it for a while, but I haven't gotten the chance to." 

He passed the cards over to Renjun. In the box there was also a guide, with prints indicating where specific cards would go. The older boy shuffled a few cards and looked up at Jeno. "Would you like the honour of having your fortune read?" he asked mischievously. 

Funnily enough, Jeno wasn't exactly opposed to the idea. Even after being cursed by a ghost he couldn't wrap his head around the fact that the metaphysical was real. 

Renjun shuffled through the cards, laying them out. He supposed he should pick from the bunch. As he picked at random, Renjun lay them accordingly to the places on the mat. 

"Death," he said, placing the first card down. It was put under _Present State_. Jaemin slipped inside in the midst of the reading, and was consulting the manual which told you exactly what card meant what. "As it's reversed, it means physical illness. Headaches, nightmares. Those kinds." 

A slightly concerning trend Jeno had observed among the cards he had chosen. The mat was populated by designs that typically spelled bad fortune. Apparently, in his past life, he experienced a major change that was traumatic. He cast a careful eye, gaze drawn towards _Future State_. The Hermit. Solitude and being withdrawn. 

"Have you had any funny dreams?" asked Jaemin curiously. Jeno wasn't sure whether to shake his head or to nod. All he could remember from his troubled nights were waking up with his bones aching, marked by chest drawn painfully tight as if he'd been flushed out of one world into the next in the whirl of an angered hurricane. 

Renjun was pensive. He gathered the cards and tucked them away. "Let's not continue the reading. A lot of this is a load of bull, anyway." 

"But I'm not done checking all the cards," Jaemin complained. He relented at the promise of rewatching his favourite Studio Ghibli movie on Renjun's enormous laptop. They ended up squeezing real close on the single bed to watch the film together, leaving the futons abandoned on the floor. Jeno rolled onto his back and stared at the off-white ceiling. It was difficult not to imagine the ghost in the upstairs attic passing through the walls. Sensing his presence. He felt a disconcerting fear pricking pins-and-needles down his arm again. Stupid orange hair! 

Renjun must have sensed it, as he always did, because he lay down next to him face up as well. From here he could still see Jaemin hunched over the screen, mesmerised by its colourful happenings. 

"How're things going with your loverboy?" 

Jeno was far too tired for any snarky remarks or embarrassment. "We got close recently. Helped me with my math crisis," he said simply. Renjun bit on his tongue, probably to stifle a laugh at the apt name Jeno had bestowed upon his maths problem. "I think we're friends, now." 

"Did he say that explicitly? Or was it an inference thing?" said Jaemin. His eyes continued to fixate on the movie. 

"Explicitly." An easy smile lit up Jeno's features at the recollection. "You know, he has this really lovely smile. It makes me feel nice. Pleasant, right down to my toes," he said, wondering a beat later if he had divulged Too Much Information. 

Jaemin's mouth had fallen open. He shook his head. "I didn't know you could be so sappy!" Turning around, he switched off the computer, crawling over and bumping the side of his waist into Jeno's. The room was fading out into a paler midnight blue at the day's warning light. "Oh my god Renjun, look at his dazed little grin." 

The two of them sat up, looming over Jeno with their hair falling into their eyes. It was as if they were trying to scrutinise a strange specimen, namely, himself. He huffed, blowing his bangs away from his forehead. He thought about Chenle's kindnessnesses and he sighed. 

"God, I'm so gay." 

"Count me in. I'm leaning towards guys these days. Not like I won't change again once more, but... anyway." Jaemin used Jeno's stomach as a pillow. The weight was unwelcome but it wasn't painful. "Want to join the cuddle pile, my wonderful token straight friend?" 

"Token straight friend?" Renjun raised an eyebrow. He joined them regardless. "I guess I am one. I had to listen to you swoon over Jeno in first year, and now Jeno is mooning over Chenle. _Chenle_. Basically my little brother."

"Woe is me," Jaemin said in a pathetic attempt in mimicking Renjun's voice. "I'm sure you've had a difficult life, Injun, but at this point in time we should be figuring out how to make Chenle profess his undying love for him. Okay… let's see. Scientific ways to make someone fall in love with you." 

"Give me that." The glowing screen was snatched away and settled into Renjun's hand. "Seems legit. It says here to fine-tune yourself to your needs. Woohoo Teen Vogue!" 

"Do love potions work? You could give him one and then give him an antidote after he confesses to you, which shouldn't be too hard. If only we were fantasy book characters. It would be a solid plan," Jaemin mused. 

After a long discourse Renjun began compiling a list of things he could do to make Chenle fall in love with him as part of his 'obligatory best friend wingman duties' (Jaemin's words) on a very helpful and surprisingly well organised Google spreadsheet. They were even sorted under different categories, ranging from being somewhat subtle to downright desperate. The validity of their sources were questionable, yet he found himself considering whether he should take up any of them. It wasn't like he had anything to lose. Except for his friendship with Chenle, of course. Would Chenle remain his friend even if he was a big ugly monster who could only communicate in burps? 

He needed the advice of somebody more practiced. Someone who would know their stuff. Like Doyoung! He could ask Doyoung for advice. He would know. Yes. Good plan. 

Then Jeno dozed off.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> me trying to justify the card reading that makes absolutely no sense: renjun doesn't know how if works, so it makes sense that it doesn't make sense. HE'S A NOVICE!


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> you have no value, except you are as a wife and a mother:

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tw mentions of miscarriage, menstruation. Be careful if you’re sensitive with these topics

_I was… upset. I wasn't sure what this feeling meant, the one that had been brewing in the depths of my stomach. It had been there for a while. I let out a deep sigh and drew the curtains open._

_Jinki was on the couch in the living room. A beautiful, kindly woman lay by his arm, speaking to him in low, muted tones. When he glanced over, she smiled as he kissed her._

_My husband brought another woman into the house, in the presence of the rest of his family, and nobody batted an eye. I was happy for him, as a friend should be when someone you've known had found happiness in another to love. A lover who would think of Jinki first, who would bring him a coffee whenever he stayed up; would bring him close to the crook of her neck to card her fingers through his hair whenever he was tired, always purposefully placing herself within his space so that he would be able to chase the familiar taste on her lips with a kiss._

_Upset? I was indignant. It wasn't fair. I rest my hands over my sallow face, tracing over my puffy eye circles and my frown lines to feel how the perpetual tiredness had marred the touch of my face like a tattoo. I was never good enough. Never beautiful enough. No matter how capable I thought I was, I was never able to let their cutting comments leave me completely. They sunk into my subconscious and had stayed since._

_Maybe if I was a better daughter-in-law, I would have been able to carry all my pregnancies to full term. I wouldn't need to mop up the blood of her bloodline pooling in between my legs by myself to be discarded; rather, I would be cradling a baby from my loins in my arms. I wouldn't need to spend nights away from my room in the garden shed to wait for my uncleanness to be shed during my menstruation feeling relieved I was away from my in-laws even for a few days. If I had my own child here, or a lover to call my own, maybe… I would have a reason to continue. Someone to love me, and to teach me to love myself again._

_I was crying, lungs wheezing with the effort. I was resentful. I wanted to start living for myself._

__

He fought back the urge to scratch his elbow. Despite the cold air inside the shopping mall, he found himself feeling awfully warm. Plus his newly grown hairs on his arm were starting to accumulate and it made wearing long-sleeved clothing almost unbearable. 

The studio where Doyoung worked as a vocal coach was always crowded. Many idol hopefuls were attending together, he knew, so he wasn't surprised to see numerous teenagers pouring out of the place after being dismissed. 

"Jeno?" A friendly face greeted him. "Hello. It's quite a small world, isn't it?" 

"Oh! Hello to you, Chenle," said Jeno, pulling down a sleeve that had ridden up. "Are you waiting for someone as well?" 

“I’m waiting for a friend of mine. She won’t be here for another…” Chenle checked his watch, “forty-five minutes.”

“Hey, we should kill some time then. Together. If you want to?”

It seemed like they had been strolling up and away from the studio for about a few minutes or so, towards the mall square with a very nice jet fountain. Jeno couldn’t believe his good luck. They were already making their way towards the stores, so it was entirely a perfunctory question, but Jeno needed to know for certain. 

“Sure! Where would you like to go?” 

Jeno looked woefully underdressed as compared to the younger boy, who was wearing more formal clothing as if he was planning to go out. It felt odd to see Chenle in an enviroment like this, outside of school, he never had pictured such a thing. Jeno had a Murakami book tucked under his arm, a book he had brought to read while waiting for Doyoung. Turned out he wouldn’t need it this time. 

Spending time in the mall was a pastime of Yerim’s. He did not see the appeal, however. There was a department store on the ground floor that appeared interesting, so they meandered around, poking at makeup testers and the like. Chenle was pulling at his arm towards the escalator when an older woman working at the store had approached him. 

She fished out a sample from out of a tiny pouch and stuck it in his direction. “Young man, would you like to try some of our products. We have makeup specially made for troubled skin and it’s common for men these days to wear makeup, you know—“

Face burning, Jeno yanked Chenle up to the second floor, wondering if the saleswoman had smelled the concealer on him. That didn’t make sense though, if she had such an acute sense of smell she might be able to tell she had applied an excessively pungent amount of perfume. 

But he wasn’t wearing any product on his face that day… did he mention that he wasn’t wearing any products on his face and that Chenle would be able to see every single pimple and dark mark on his face…? He had no good reason to wear any while meeting Doyoung. 

“Do I really have that many pimples on my face?” Jeno asked self-consciously, voice running mortifyingly high out of the blue. 

They glided across carpeted floor, now in the clothing aisle. The male clothing section was pitifully small, a speck when held up to the rest of the sprawling department. Jeno half-heartedly leafed through a few racks. Whenever he turned to shoot a glance at Chenle, he would resolutely look away, shoulders wavering. He must have found his distress funny, Jeno thought morosely. 

Chenle picked up a tartan button down so ugly it would have made Yerim’s eyes burn, holding it up against his collarbone, humming. “Your skin isn’t that bad, honest,” he said. Jeno examined Chenle’s nearly spotless skin and frowned. 

He pulled a flashy pose. He ought to appear ridiculous but he was _Chenle_ , so he doesn’t, crooking his lips into a grin, saying, “What do you think?”

His attempt to redirect Jeno’s attention was so easy to see through it was laughable. Jeno was relieved anyway. 

“You look awful!” Removing another atrocious button down from the rack, he continued, “This, however… I’m pretty sure my father has one just like it, and as you can see,” he gestured to his large, faded hoodie and ratty oversized sweatpants, “I’ve inherited an impeccable sense of style from him, so you know it’s going to be good.”

“Oh yeah? You must be the splitting image of your father then. Why not try it on and let me see Mr Lee for myself?” 

No way in hell was he going to go into a changing room. Someone was probably going to give them a funny look regardless, so Jeno pulled it over instead then and there. He didn't catch the sight of Chenle’s eyebrows raised high, Jeno forgetting to unbutton the top button, his head getting caught and he sort of wiggled like a dead fish for a bit before Chenle regained the use of his lungs, breathless from giggling, to help him. 

After making each other ugly laugh at half of the unfunniest things in the vicinity, they wandered back outside the studio, Jeno preparing to steel himself to ask his brother some burning questions.

Jeno recognised Doyoung in the midst of the stream of children. Many high pitched voices were chattering all at once, a cacophony of noise. Some were exchanging words with his brother. With a hurried goodbye to Chenle, Jeno stepped away to meet him. 

"Hey, Doyoung," he called. The older man looked up at hearing his name, confused, then his eyes lit up and he skidded over. 

"My favourite brother," Doyoung crowed melodramatically. In what appeared of him giving into his instincts, his hand reached out to ruffle Jeno's hair. Thank goodness it wasn't styled, else Doyoung wouldn't hear the end of it from him. 

They went ahead in the direction of the shops, talking for a bit, discussing the options for lunch. Since Doyoung was short on funds, and _had_ to treat Jeno as his elder, he offered to grab a meal at the food court. When Jeno had settled down armed with a cup of avocado juice, he looked on as Doyoung sipped at his udon bowl. Then he recalled what exactly he had thought of the other day. 

"Um, I was wondering. How do you make someone fall in love with you?" 

The food Doyoung was eating went down the wrong way. He let out a miserable hacking cough and realigned himself quickly. 

"Did you just ask me how to _seduce_ someone?" asked Doyoung, incredulous. His phrasing was a far cry from the way Jeno had said it. Jeno's hands flew up to dismiss his words. 

"What? No!" Jeno cried, dismayed. "It's nothing like that. Could you please not talk so loudly? It's because you have a lot more experience than me, that's all!" 

To his knowledge, Doyoung had a girlfriend, Sejeong, who he had been dating on and off for the past year or so. He had experimented a lot more before that. 

Exasperated, he shook his head, schooling his face into something more serious. A chastisement was bound to slip out of his mouth at this rate. "Jeno, my dear, might I remind you that you're seventeen? Why on earth would you need to know this for? Let romance in high school blossom naturally." 

Jeno had the truth about the curse dangling on the tip of his tongue but he held back. Maybe he could say it was because of a bet. Unfortunately, Doyoung knew him too well and would never believe such a thing. "I'm probably the wrong person to ask. My advice would more be catered to appealing girls. Why don't you ask Yerim?" 

Yerim had been asked a while ago. She and Renjun were especially tight back in middle school, so they had each other's contact numbers. She had known two nights ago when Renjun had messaged her. She said something close to how whenever she wanted a guy to look in her direction, she would wear a short skirt that day and bend down to pick something up off the ground in front of him, precisely accompanied by a tactic she employed named the 'Bend-and-Snap.' And she had tried to laugh less crudely around him. None of the tactics even worked out at the end. She asked him out one day and he agreed somehow. It had all been a coincidence. Besides that, it wasn't exactly a love confession. 

"Yerim told me she would wear short skirts and bend down in trying to pick things up," he muttered. "I don't wear skirts! Nor do I want to flash anyone!" 

"She _what?_ " Doyoung was downright murderous in a protective, brotherly way.  
"She's all grown up but she's still so brazen. I swear she'll give me a heart attack someday."

He slackened his straight posture and sighed heavily, clearly relenting. Jeno sat up at attention, eager to listen to his pearls of wisdom. "Okay. I'm your best bet. Get to know him better. Know what he likes. Show him you're paying attention. That's the most I'll tell you."

In what was an attempt to end this train of conversation, he dropped his chopsticks back onto his bowl with an unpleasant clink. Jeno must have looked like he wanted to ask more. 

For the rest of the afternoon, Jeno let himself be carried away with what his brother had planned and tried his best not to think of any other questions. 

__

What Jeno found very doable was meeting up with Chenle to grow closer. Aside from any possible repercussions, it would bring them tighter knit. They could even become good friends. Not a bad idea at all. The most sensible suggestion as well. What was the worst that could happen? 

Under Renjun's careful supervision, Jeno managed to learn a few new things regarding Chenle. Yerim had mentioned how an excellent way to get to a man's heart was through the stomach. It was the silliest thing he had ever heard, but cooking… that he knew how to do. He bought a cookbook full of Chinese recipes. He made several trips to Chinatown for advice on how to cook them the best and where to get the most authentic ingredients. Like how he said before, he wanted to go all out. 

For the next week at home, Jeno spent an hour in the kitchen everyday without fail. And my God did he cook! Every dinner that week it would be a different kind of dish plucked right out from Chinese cuisine. Different provinces, even. Baking little pastries weren't spared either if he could help it. It wasn't like his family had anything to complain about. They got hot delicious meals. Jeno was a fairly decent cook and practice was making him more polished. 

When asked the reason behind his sudden culinary storm, Yerim told his parents that it was for a romantic endeavour. Dad had simply clapped his hands together in delight, wishing him luck on 'getting the girl.' He'd get to telling them someday. Just not today. 

On Sunday he had stayed up past his bedtime to make the filling. Monday morning he pinched and twisted the dough together and chucked it into a pot of boiling water. He pushed the cooked ones into a lunchbox so full of it, he had to push them to the bottom of his bag so they wouldn't get mushed from the weight of his books. Then before he headed to school, he messaged his friends in the morning to come over to his classroom during lunch without citing any particular reason.

"Hello, kind sir," Jaemin quipped as he strode through the classroom doors, Renjun following. To nobody's surprise what was left of his girl classmates whirled around to ogle him unabashedly. 

Renjun was holding a card pack. For a moment Jeno thought he had carried his stupid tarot card deck all the way to school. Thankfully, it was UNO, so they played a game on the classroom floor. 

"Don't you dare!" Renjun hissed. "You put that card down and I'll strangle you!" 

Jaemin slapped his plus four card to the top of the pile. "The colour is RED! Please welcome your new thirty-two cards!" As Renjun was counting his new cards with gritted teeth, he was muttering darkly under his breath.

In quick succession Jeno and Jaemin finished off the rest of their cards to the pile. The game was finished and they'd want to stay over again. Jeno had been so wrapped up in their childish fun that he had nearly forgotten what they were here for. He got up, returning to his table and retrieved his lunchbox. 

"I need you guys to be taste testers for me today," Jeno said quickly at their curious expressions. Both of them had perked up at the smell of dumplings. "And I needed an opinion from my most reliable source." 

"I appreciate it." Renjun brought his disposable chopsticks out of his pocket. "So that's why you told us to bring utensils, huh?"

He didn't say much until he sank his teeth into an oddly shaped piece, letting out a surprised noise. "Hey, what did you add to the filling? It's different from the usual, but it's a nice touch. It's fantastic for a second try. They don't quite make these as good as the ones back home. What inspired your new culinary talent?" 

Jeno nodded humbly at the praise. He remembered Yerim's words that he had chosen to follow, then felt himself slowly redden. Jaemin doesn't even try to fight a laugh at the sight of his friend, much to Jeno's chagrin. “Yerim said that the fastest way to someone’s heart is through their stomach,” he mumbled. "Also, a little extra ginger spices everything up." 

“I can’t believe it. Everyday Jeno surprises me more,” Jaemin exclaimed proudly, pinching Jeno’s cheek. “You’re blushing so hard. Well, I guess desperate times call for desperate measures.”

Jeno ducked out of Jaemin’s hold in time, glancing back at the half-open lunch box in his hand. There’s still a few left, enough to fill for a few hours or so. As a test batch, he hadn’t bothered to make much of them in excess, but he had stored some leftover filling in the freezer. The surprisingly tedious preparation needed in making dumplings would shorten as he became more practised, but he was seriously burnt out. 

“We need a code name for… you know who,” Jeno said, gesturing. The three thought for a while. 

“I know!” Jaemin said brightly, smiling. Oh boy. “Let’s call him Pumpkin. Since it’s due by Halloween. Wait. This sounds an awful lot like a baby nickname.”

“Pumpkin!” They giggled boyishly. Jeno even joined in on their laughter. “Anyways. Since this attempt happened to be successful, I guess I should save some for _Pumpkin_ ,” he said. There was another obnoxious titter from Jaemin. Renjun looked like he wanted to chastise the taller boy, but he also bit his tongue to fight a laugh. “I don’t see him today, though. I’ll just have to give this to Jaemin. Pity.” 

“Good plan,” Jaemin said, making grabby hands for the lunchbox. Out of the blue, Renjun shook his head. 

He held up his phone, Chenle’s contact flashing back at Jeno. “You know his classroom is just downstairs. Why don’t you just ask to come over? I can text him now, or whatever.”

Jeno’s eyebrows fly to his hairline. He shakes his head vehemently. “No way, my eye bags are terrible right now. I mean, even worse than usual. I don’t want to make him feel like he needs to come here.”

“What? Didn’t you say he’s a friend? Besides, I’m his upperclassman. I could ask him to come to this classroom and yes, he has no respect for seniority but he won’t question me. I can tell him I simply feel like seeing him, and he’ll take it at face value,” Renjun said, looking mildly unimpressed. “Also Jeno you look perfectly fine. Don’t be silly.”

“I look like a panda gone wrong,” he groaned. Jaemin peeled himself from Renjun’s side, bemused, patting Jeno’s head as if he was a silly pet. 

“Then you’re a decent looking panda. Even if you look a little wonky,” he said, and both of them shared a small smile. “I think you underestimate how charming you can be sometimes. You ought to give yourself a little more credit.”

The door abruptly opened with a bang. There stood Chenle, man of the hour. “Hi Renjun, what’s up? Hi Jaemin, Hi Jeno.” His eyes flicker from them one by one. He briefly put his nose up in the air, taking a deep breath. “Are those dumplings?”

Jaemin passed him a pair of chopsticks. Chenle chewed for a long while, Jeno watching on anxiously. "These are pretty good," he said. Renjun bumped Jeno's shoulder with his own, as if to say ' _I told you so.'_

"Right?" Jaemin affirmed, puffing out his chest like a proud bird. "Jeno made them. He's only started learning how to make some properly last week." It took a good amount of self-discipline for Jeno to try his best to not fidget under their gazes. 

"Seriously!" Chenle looked slightly bug-eyed. “I didn’t know you had a flair for cooking, Jeno.” Mentally Jeno checked off the list in his head on what he could do to make Chenle fall in love with him checklist. Unsure of how to respond, he only shook his head at the compliment. 

“I heard you and Jeno exchanged Instagram accounts. Have you two been messaging each other?” He heard Jaemin ask unabashedly. 

Jeno sighed deeply. It was far too early for this. He got up, sliding into his seat to distance himself from the three. “He isn't much of a texter, you see. I’m just curious about his new friends.”

Man, could he be anymore obvious? Chenle smiled at them, ready to launch into another genial conversation. It was mildly infuriating at how easily his friends took to him, unlike Jeno who would have remained in his shell the whole time if not for the curse. He slumped over, burying his face in his arms and groaned. Surely he wasn’t this antisocial. He wondered if he would have ever approached Chenle under normal circumstances. The Chinese boy just happened to catch his eye. It was never that serious. It wasn’t like he was _in love_ with Chenle. 

“He asked you to smile more in his pictures, he said? There’s nothing wrong with your pictures, but I get what he means. You do have a lovely smile,” Renjun said loudly, jolting Jeno out of his thoughts. Turning around, Renjun looked pointedly at him. “Tell him there’s nothing wrong with Chenle’s pictures, Jeno.”

Of course he puts him on the spot like this. At least he was less obvious than Jaemin when he did it, he supposed. “You said he had a lovely smile, Jen?” Jaemin asked, a positively devious look on his face. 

“Yes I did, what’s it to you? I was voicing my thoughts. Why does Chenle not smile in his pictures, anyway?” He tried his best not to sound defensive. 

“That’s a good question,” Chenle answered, pensive. A very adorable expression, even to Jaemin and Renjun. Both of them glanced over at him in surprise, not expecting it. “I think I started not smiling with my teeth when I was twelve or so? I didn’t like my teeth very much. They’re kind of crooked.”

They forgot about Jeno, clambering over to reassure Chenle about his looks. Jeno stayed in his seat, watching on in amusement. His mind began drifting back to the Chinese cookbook he got the other day and whether Renjun knew the dishes Chenle liked. The first step of their makeshift plan was a go. 

During Literature class, Jeno was surprised to see Jaemin’s class streaming in through his classroom doors. His friend smiled as he settled in the empty seat next to him.

“Mr Lee has taken sick leave today, so his class will be joining us in the meantime,” his teacher said. It was nice. Jeno never shared any classes with Jaemin. “We’ve started on a new book for these two terms. If you haven’t had the chance to get your book yet, share it with the classmate next to you.” 

There was a shuffle of chairs and tables as people gathered together, then came the droning. It was only engaging because of the book itself. He had read it cover to cover while he had it. His eyes widened as he felt something smooth slide under his hands. 

It was a note from Jaemin. It said, _Are you free after school? I have a thing to show you._


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Not @ yangyang being revived while i revise scenes

Jeno had never been to the school kitchen. It had been strictly reserved to the Culinary Club, who, interestingly, had captured Jaemin’s attention, someone who only knew how to cook a mean ramyeon. 

There was a boy standing by the counter, slicing a carrot with deft expertise. “Hey, Yangyang!” Jaemin called, surprising him and causing the boy’s hand to slip. A droplet of blood welled up from the newly formed cut. 

“Ouch, ouch shit,” Yangyang was muttering, looking up and seeing the two of them, “you scared me!”

“Oh shit, sorry,” said Jaemin, and went to get bandages. That left Jeno with Yangyang, a person he barely knew. Renjun said he had wanted to form a gaming club, but it wasn’t given the go by the school administration, so he had to set his sights on something more humble, according to him. 

“Hello. I didn’t expect to meet you. Jaemin didn’t tell me where he was bringing me to. You’re part of the culinary club, I presume?”

“‘Course,” said Yangyang, pointing to his shockingly pink apron, a great contrast to what he was wearing, an expensive looking hoodie with branded sweatpants. Jeno berated himself for being so stupid. 

Jaemin helped bandage his finger as he talked. “Renjun told me you wanted to learn how to cook. I’m aware of the context, so I brought you here.”

Yangyang shrugged, preparing a bowl and pushing the carrot slices off the cutting board into a porcelain bowl. “We’re always welcome to new members. Jaemin isn’t exactly a member, but I don’t see anything wrong with someone popping in once in a while. Go get an apron for yourselves, will you?”

They ended up teaching Yangyang how to make a quick kimchi stew, and in exchange, he taught them how to make Chinese-style stir fried pork. It was a productive afternoon full of laughter.

__

As Chenle orated the plans for the dance, he gracefully swung a pointer he had received from Miss Kim around the screen. It was becoming irritating as he slowly loosened his tight hold on it, letting the green laser fly around in abandon. Jeno wasn’t sure whether to direct his eyes towards Chenle, the presentation, or the laser. 

“So, case in point, I believe that we could hold auditions as entertainment for the dance,” he said, one leg shaking incessantly as he spoke. Miss Kim kept nodding after every sentence and was beginning to resemble a bobblehead. 

Yeji, restless, elbowed Jeno. He winced but did not respond, sitting up as if he was in a lecture. Her breath was hot, fanning his ears. “Hey. Jeno. Why do you keep looking at him like that?”

“What?” He was not going to tolerate teasing from her. Not at all. “What is it?”

“You keep looking at Chenle like he just saved your kitten from dying.” Her voice was thick with amusement. He elbowed her away.

This was one of the few tips he had picked up from the checklist. _Maintain eye contact. Be interested in who they are and what they say. People love it when someone else listens to them. Ask follow-up questions and respond compassionately._

Was it overkill? He didn’t know. 

"If you're wondering," she said in between giggles, "It's not very subtle. If I was at the receiving end of this gaze, I would be creeped out. Tone it down a bit." 

Chenle ended his presentation with a flourish, smiling all the while. Jeno didn't know what spurred him to start clapping politely but Miss Kim was applauding him too. To be fair, it was a pretty good presentation. In a show of niceties he raised his arm, waiting to ask a question. 

"Yes, Jen?" The younger boy asked, sounding confident. "Go on."

"I have a question," Jeno said. "I heard from Renjun that you can play the piano. Why don't you be one of the performers?" 

Chenle's mask of confidence fell away. Was that dismay? Clearly he was taken aback. "Uh. Wow. I didn't think of that," he replied sheepishly. "I'll consider." 

"I heard from your teacher that you performed often back in China," Miss Kim intoned. Her interest in the subject was abundant. "Perhaps you should consider it?" 

Chenle settled back into a chair next to them. Then there was a stilted quiet as Miss Kim ran over the points. They were sitting closely together due to a new and easy familiarity they shared, but still he felt closed off. There wasn't much he knew about him, Jeno realised. Nothing that Chenle divulged personally, he noted with a twinge of sadness. Chenle had been in his car, outside his apartment and knew his hobbies. It felt imbalanced. And he could tell, because although Chenle was next to him, there was a storm cloud that seemed to hang over his head, Jeno had no clue why that was.

It was difficult not to reach out and ask a question. It had been felt easy at first, yet there was a great reluctance at the possibility of overstepping boundaries. The meeting ended on a low note despite the rows and rows of instruments sitting in their rests. He was almost scared to gauge Chenle’s reaction to them. It wasn’t his intention for them to end up here and he hoped Chenle would know that. greater progression, and they slipped out of the gym without a word, Yeji leaving in a different direction, so it was just them two. 

Jeno let Chenle go ahead, always remaining step behind. They headed down the flights of stairs. He listened to their footsteps echo down the stairwell, skidding across the concrete. Would Chenle have someone to go back for help, to ask him what was wrong? Or did he have no one? Jeno's arm was hovering over Chenle's shoulder, uncertain. 

Even if the younger boy had someone to confide in, he wanted to be somebody that Chenle could trust. He decided then and there. Technically this was following the checklist, he thought, the one reason he needed to push ahead. _Be interested in his affairs. Show that you care._

"Chenle. Is anything the matter? Did I say something wrong?" Jeno cringed at the way he voiced his thoughts, but he had already bit the bullet. "I have a feeling that you're upset, like I brought up a topic you weren't fond of. Sorry." 

Chenle trickled like a steady stream of water, picking up speed with the momentum as if he was born to glide endlessly like this. "No, it's fine. It's nothing much anyways. Me being childish, that's all." 

Suddenly it was like how it was back when he was in the toilet stall, dismissing his problems while Jaemin kept insisting on talking about it. Comforting him. Yet the conversation was amplified all the more, because Jeno was heading into unknown waters, out of his comfort zone. They had never spoken like this before. Right now Jeno could back off, and Chenle could tell someone else close to him, maybe. Or he could press on and have Chenle clam up on him. Although he genuinely liked him, Jeno wasn't sure how far his infatuation would extend. 

They reached the ground floor, where they had to split off in two different directions. Jeno waved his hand tentatively, again with more confidence as Chenle returned it. 

"I'll see you later," Jeno called after him. "You don't have to perform, if you want. But you could see how much you've progressed. Think about it, alright?" 

And Chenle nodded in relieved agreement, his face bright. Jeno decided just then that the only proper way to treat Chenle was to cherish him. 

__

“Hello!” 

Chenle jogged up to him, one hand waving as a friendly greeting, clearly excited to see him. Jeno was secretly delighted to see the younger boy. The second portion of dumplings he had made at Renjun’s request was sitting on the canteen table. 

Well, he had been hoping to use it to find an excuse to talk to Chenle, so it was perfect. He had his work cut out for him for today. He needn’t awkwardly fumble through to find some reason to give a dumpling to him. “Hi, Chenle, what’s up?”

He sat down next to him, nodding at Renjun and Jaemin. The two of them looked at them curiously and carefully. In all honesty, Jeno didn’t know Chenle could simply approach him like this— they were close enough to do it now, was it? That meant Jeno would be able to do it vice versa now, surely?

“Hey, Chenle,” said Renjun. “What are you doing here?” 

Jaemin pushed another dumpling into his mouth in lieu of a greeting. Jeno sighed, deflating. Alright, this was a friendly visit. It was funny, though. He just realised how he had never truly met Chenle with Renjun. They had never seen them meet like this before.

“Is this about what Yangyang said the other day?”

Chenle shook his head, cheery. “No, but if you have an opinion on his joke, go ahead!”

“It was a very poor idea. Distasteful.” He wrinkled his nose. “Global warming will never be funny, yes?” 

“You sound too prissy,” said Jaemin, who called himself prissy twice a week, “what are you really here for, Chenle?”

Chenle chewed on his lip thoughtfully, pointing at the lone dumpling in the lunchbox, “Actually, I was here to discuss cooking. Jaemin has been spending time in the Culinary Club with you,” the aforementioned boy smiled at this, “Yangyang and I are planning to teach a few recipes we know from home on Thursday, at his request. Jeno.”

“Yes?” Jeno squawked. Jaemin tittered. 

“You’ve been interested in Chinese recipes, right? Injun told me. Why not pop in?” he asked. 

He blinked at the offer. Renjun looked terribly pleased with himself, elbowing Jaemin in the shoulder and whispering in his ear. Something incriminating, probably. 

“I should be offended you didn’t ask me. It’s okay though, we all know I’m just okay at cooking. But I’m sure Jeno would be happy to join you.” 

__

**[injun] You should ask Chenle out. No pressure just like, ask him out**

**[injun] Again I repeat no pressure. YOU NEED INITIATIVE**

**[injun] Jeno Lee you did not just bluetick me.**

**[me] oh my god your timing is impeccable as always, me and him just got briefed this morning so we can call later hahahahaha**

**[injun] We can call after dinner. The bao can wait**

**[injun] Just GO omg**

**[me] ok mom pls rmb we’re going out under an agenda no hopes up**

**[injun] So me being concerned about my friend’s problems makes me a mom??? Is everyone your mother now**

**[me] why r u so passive aggressive bye**

__

After school, they helped Yangyang carry a bagful of ingredients. Jaemin was unfazed, as if he was used to this treatment already, while Jeno struggled with managing his own portion. 

“The work we’re doing is technically out of school activities, so we had to buy the ingredients on our own,” the Taiwanese boy said, hauling the heavy weight onto the counter with a thump. “Cough up!”

There was a messy exchange of coins and notes. Jaemin and Yangyang worked in unison, darting about cupboards, removing pots and cutting boards from their places. The last time they had cooked, the apparatus they had used was wildly different, Jeno hadn’t stayed behind to clean up, so he didn’t know what went where, and couldn’t help them prepare. 

He tried to make himself useful by sorting out the ingredients. There were a couple of prawns in the bag. Jeno might as well try to be useful, removing a prawn’s head and tail. 

Someone entered the kitchen. Then came an outraged squawk. “What on earth are you doing?” Chenle scrambled over. “Why are you doing that?”

“I do this all the time whenever I cook prawns. It’s a hassle to deprawn cooked shrimp ‘cause it’s hot,” said Jeno coolly, before he realised belatedly that not everyone would have done such a thing. It had been a habit he cultivated because he hated deprawning while he ate, so he had done this whenever he prepared the food, his family not saying much because he was the cook. It must have looked strange… Jeno lost his hold on the prawn and it fell into the sink. 

At Jeno’s mortification, Chenle simply clapped him on his shoulder, making Jeno jump. “You’re strange. Don’t do that for the rest of the prawns, alright? I need them whole for my special recipe.” 

“Special recipe?” Jeno made himself busy, pulling at the drawer handles. 

Chenle produced a toothpick. “Are you looking for this?” 

“Sneak,” Jeno muttered. It was a great disadvantage not to know the set-up of the kitchen, he thought. He was curious as to what Chenle would teach them, as they only had time for one dish before Yangyang and Jaemin had to leave for extra lessons. 

As if those around him could read his mind, Yangyang piped up. “The recipe Chenle’s making will be easy to do, so we have time for a side dish. How’s that sound?” 

There was a flurry of action as aprons were looped around necks and tied, ingredients washed and cut, stoves lit and warmed. It was different from the leisurely pace Jeno had whenever he worked solo in his kitchen at home, so he struggled to keep up. 

“This is a dish I learnt from my mother. Honestly? I could do it in my sleep,” said Chenle as he beat the eggs, quickly placing it into the pot. “Help me stir-fry these shrimp heads.” 

Jeno looked mournfully at the shrimp head he had disposed into the trash can, deciding to compensate for its absence as he set the pan onto the stove, adding oil and deftly stirring the remaining shrimp heads around as he cooked. Stir-frying was something he did on the get-go. He could spy Jaemin staring on in admiration at his practiced ease with the pan. 

“I can’t even hear the oil crackle without flinching,” Jaemin said. Chenle’s dish was bubbling in its pot, glistening and frothing. “We have to get you to cook next time we have a sleepover. We’re taking you for granted.”

“You guys have sleepovers, right? Or so I’ve heard.” 

Jeno shrugged, scraping the last shrimp head into the pot, before adding oil back onto his pan along with a sprinkle of diced garlic under Yangyang’s prior instruction. “Yup. Who told you that?” 

“Chenle, that’s who,” Yangyang said, almost accusatory, as he leaned back against the kitchen counter. Jeno found it odd. He had told the younger boy, once, about their fortnightly sleepovers. Renjun told nobody about them. Why would Chenle feel the need to tell his friend about Jeno’s business? He didn’t mean for the thought to play off as rude, he simply didn’t have any other word to describe it. “Chenle… could you…?”

There was a little bit of a language toss-up as Yangyang’s recipe hadn’t been translated properly. So he had pointed at the ingredients they needed, mumbling something in Chinese, until Chenle intervened. When they were finished, Jaemin set the second dish to stew, which made use of the rest of the prawns. 

“Alright, so that’s finished,” said Jaemin, wiping at the sweat on his brow. He checked the clock. “Damn. We won’t have time to see the stew finished.” 

“Then we’ll help ourselves to Chenle’s dish!” Yangyang licked his lips as he rubbed his hands together. “It smells delicious! Ugh, I’m starving.”

They ate while standing up, two bowls to themselves as Jeno watched on. The smell was tantalisingly rich for such a simple dish. Though Jeno wasn’t hungry, his mouth was watering too. Chenle seemed unaffected. He must have eaten this many times, then. Good for him. 

Jaemin must have noticed, because he walked over and fed him a spoonful. “You were eyeing it like a piece of meat,” he said, amused. 

“Eh?” Yangyang was looking at them with poorly concealed surprise. He looked at Jeno. Then he looked at Chenle. “Are you two, like, together?”

He began to speak, but Jaemin beat him to it. “No way in hell! I would never!”

“What he said,” Jeno murmured. _Ouch._

“Funny thing is, I would have totally jumped at the chance if you asked me at some point in time. To date him would be like dating my brother.” He eyed Yangyang. “Why do you say so?”

Yangyang sagged against his chair, weakly fanning his hair. “Okay, that assumption was stupid. It’s that both of you like guys, and you seem close.”

“What? You guys like boys?” Chenle had been sitting sloppily. Now he was ramrod straight, stiff in his seat. 

Jeno suddenly felt his throat run dry. _Please don’t be homophobic, please don’t be homophobic… why do I have to deal with things like this..._

“Yeah,” Jaemin retorted defensively, folding his arms over his chest, “what about it?”

“Nothing. Nothing at all. I’m not homophobic.” Chenle brushed it off quickly, not exactly in a saving face kind of way, nor in a strictly straight boy kind of way. Jeno let out a shaky laugh, much to Jaemin’s chagrin. His friend still felt suspicious, probably. There was an awkward lull. 

Hurriedly finishing his portion, Yangyang got up, piling the emptied bowls onto each other. “Hey! Won’t you look at the time, Jaemin! We’re going to be late for geography! We gotta go!”

Jaemin scowled. “I’m not done with him,” he said, getting dragged away anyway. 

Jeno didn’t know what to say. Chenle _was_ being pretty weird about that comment. Why? He didn’t exactly trust Jaemin’s gut feeling either. Jaemin was generally laid back, but one mention about an issue close to his heart and he would puff up like a bird. 

They ate in silence. There were soft clinks as they piled up what they had used into the sink to wash. Jeno had never felt a silence so unbearable, he was scared to breathe too loud, lest it would sound odd. At least the garlic prawns they had made were tasty. 

Fortunately, Chenle was just as tense as he was, sniffling a little. He poured a cup of warm water from the pitcher and offered it to the younger boy. “Blocked nose?”

“Thanks. You noticed?” There was a sheepish tilt in his small smile as he accepted the drink. “So, what did you think of our cooking session today?”

 _Finally!_ Jeno returned the smile, thankful to resume conversation. Anything to replace the stilted quiet. “It was really relaxing. Thanks for showing us how to make your dish at home. I’ve got to try it out sometime. I bet my family would love it.” 

“You cook for your family?” 

“Yeah, I do. My brother used to be the one in charge of meals, but ever since he moved away for military service and then university, it’s just me. I like cooking, that’s why. Since we only really see each other at dinnertime, I’ve just got to cook one meal a day.”

“It makes sense. You must be tired after a long day. Only quick meals would do,” said Chenle thoughtfully with a finger on his chin. Jeno wondered why he had ever doubted him. 

Renjun had insisted Jeno ought to ask him out. Perhaps this would be a good chance, to get to know him better. He racked his brain for a plausible excuse to go out together. Would the simple reason of spending time with a friend be enough? 

“Who came up with this idea, anyway?” asked Jeno as he circled the rim of a bowl with a sponge. “I mean, it's a wonderful one, nothing wrong with it or anything. It just feels out of the blue.” 

Chenle turned away from him, shrugging. “Ah, well, it was my idea. Jaemin only knows how to cook a little, according to Yangyang. And you were tagging along, so I thought, why not, y’know? It’s always fun to learn new things. Who knows? It might become a popular dish among your family too.” 

He got the feeling Chenle wasn’t telling the truth entirely. But it was sweet of him. If he was someone more self-assured, he might just assume Chenle’s words were an untruth he had conjured up to spend time with Jeno. They weren’t alone when they cooked, though. 

A light bulb lit up in Jeno’s head. “Hey, Chenle,” he said. “Do you want to go to the underground mall nearby? We could, um,” ugh, he was not cut out for this at all, “the catering service Miss Kim was interested in has a store there, we could ask a few questions?” 

There. He couldn’t think of anything better. It was clear as day his reason wasn’t much of a reason, it sounded more like pretext, to be fair— if Chenle said no, too bad. 

“Sounds great.” The cool answer caught him off guard, and he had to scramble to catch the fork that had slipped out of his grasp. It was all very embarrassing. There had to be a limit to the number of emotions he could feel in the span of two hours. 

“I’ll catch up with you in a bit? I’ve got someone to talk to, something to do.”

“Alright, I’ll see you there?”

If Jeno left the kitchen with a skip in his step, nobody saw. 

Monsoon season had the air feeling much more thick and cloying, clinging to every pore in his skin. It worsens where ventilation is pore and Jeno found himself sweating buckets here. The racks of long-sleeved clothing don’t help either, but it’s necessary to keep the hairs out of view. 

That was why he was in a treacherously bad mood, a tongue away from snapping at the next person who happened to breathe in his direction, waiting for Chenle’s arrival by the entrance. A junior high student talking to her accidentally stepped on his foot. Jeno hissed at the girl in response. 

“Jeno!” In the remnants of the unpleasant afternoon sun, Chenle shone like an angel incarnate. “Hey!”

“Hey,” he greeted. Jeno brushed a stray hair out of Chenle’s eyes, admiring the twin crescents they blossom into as the younger boy smiled genially at him. “The caterer works somewhere nearby, right?”

“Right.” They fall into an easy rhythm as they saunter through the mall, steps matching up eventually. He had used to frequent this mall during a time when he had quarrelled constantly with his parents, and according to what he could remember, there were several shops here selling instruments. They didn’t exactly watch where they’re going, unconsciously following where the receding masses of a thinning crowd, fanning out into the music part of the mall where patrons were few. Jeno bumped into the corner of a public piano tucked into a corner despite the small corridor. 

“It’s much quieter in the evening,” Jeno started cautiously. He leaned a hand against the wall. This place no longer smelled of lemongrass, rather, the sweet, relaxing tang of lavender, loosening his taut shoulders. He wasn’t even aware he was feeling tense. 

“Have you been here often?” asked Chenle. Jeno was watching him from the corner of his eye, the younger boy taking no time to stare or peer at any displays. 

“There was a time when I was here every day, during a self-proclaimed rebellious phase.” That made Chenle crack a wry smile. “It was for the silliest reasons.”

“Everyday?”

“Yeah. There were a couple of guys who frequented the place, we used to race from this,” he pointed to a now shuttered store, “to over there. I was the fastest boy, so they had to buy me snacks. That’s how I made sure I didn’t need to go home for food.” 

“I couldn’t imagine myself running away from home. It’s dangerous out in the streets, late at night. My rebellious phase was when I had cursed in front of my mother and refused to take it back.”

“You refused to take it back?” Jeno said between incredulous laughter. He could see it. A scrawny Chenle, refusing to get off the couch, childishly thunderous as his mother stared him down. It was a strangely endearing picture. 

“Isn’t it such a funny story? I bet Pa would love to tell it at parties, if he went for any. Ma always dressed me in all these constricting button ups and slacks, I thought it was such a big deal for me to swear.”

Clearly, they had two very separate opinions on what teenage rebellion was. 

“What changed? You aren’t swearing like a sailor now, are you?”

“That’s another story. I had got my bus card holder stuck when I tried to tap out, and because I was so used to cursing, a whole bunch of curse words fell out. I was in public and a child was just right next to me, witnessing all of it. I swore off it from that day on!”

They drifted from one display to another, ultimately drawing close to a homely store with wooden walls. It was the yellow-white lamps that hang from the ceiling, melting into the ambience lighting with a heady glow. The counter was empty. There was a piano under the racks of guitars, all beautifully crafted. 

Jeno had learnt how to play the guitar a few years ago because of a club he joined. He picked one up, admiring its comfortable weight in his hand, sliding the headstock into his grasp, feeling both familiar and unfamiliar. 

To his surprise, when he looked up, he saw Chenle sitting by the piano. The unbridled emotion registered on his face. “You play, Jeno?” 

The piano had a long seat, so Jeno sat down beside Chenle, settling the instrument into his lap and thrumming a few strings here and there. It took a few tries to slip back due to years of unfaithful playing. The multiple guitar calluses that he had developed and went away, so there’s a little soreness with every thrum. He played a few strings over, making the notes bloom outwards. 

“I like that. Keep that going,” Chenle instructed, the corners of his lips tilting upwards slightly. It took far less time for him to build a rhythm, separate from Jeno’s but simultaneously complimentary, fingers dancing across the keys with an unmistakable ease. As a harmony started being formed, he swayed his head slightly. It was a wonderful sound. Both of them were grinning widely by its end. 

“We work well together,” Jeno said, getting up to put the guitar back into its place. "You're really adaptable! I was just doing my own thing and you managed to complement it as well—" It was difficult to not let the admiration creep into his tone. He didn’t want to sound like a weirdo. 

Chenle flinched, so Jeno panicked. “I mean, I’m not the greatest at this and, it’s understandable if you don’t want to continue playing with me.”

“If I work with you, it wouldn’t sound bad, actually,” Chenle remarked. “What do you think?” He dusted off the non-existent lint off his pants, getting up to leave the store. Jeno had to blink, disappointed. He quickly waved it away, remembering what they were here for. “Let’s not get distracted!”

Even hours after their meeting, Jeno thought about them performing on a makeshift stage in the gym, playing together. It was, admittedly, a fantasy he found himself feeding into. Even then. At least he could find an excuse to spend time with Chenle, which would be beneficial for Jeno. Advantageous for his heart, or the curse. He wasn’t sure whether those intersected. 

__

**[injun] reply to me when you see this**

**[me] I am back.**

**[me] how am i still breathing**

**[me] he suggested we should do a guitar piano duet**

**[me] he said he’d only do it if we do it tgt**

**[me] HELLO???**

**[injun] Oi what the hell I have like 1000 notifs are you ok**

**[me] he said we can rehearse together over the weekend**

**[me] but saturdays**

**[injun] SCREW SATURDAYS**

**[injun] YOUR CURSE DEPENDS ON UR LOVE LIFE**


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> If I come to you, and you come to me  
> Where are we going?  
> Your pretty bright hair is all that I see  
> But where are we going?

“So I told Chenle, I don’t have a guitar. So I can’t,” said Jeno, leaning against Renjun. Some days they would spend time at Renjun and Jaemin’s classroom and some days they would be at Jeno’s classroom. Today they were in their classroom. It was nicer here. He wasn’t acquainted with many of their classmates, aside from electives which didn’t truly count, which meant that nobody would come up and talk to him. 

Jaemin slumped into a lazy slouch, brushing Jeno’s hair behind his ear, rubbing the strands between his fingers. Sleepily Jeno unconsciously leaned into the touch, returning the lazy affection. The three hours of classes before lunch felt much longer than usual. “I think you could ask the Guitar Club. They probably have an old one you can use.”

Jeno sighed but it contained no exasperation. “That’s not the point. I don’t want to embarrass myself in front of other people. I’m not gonna do that for pumpkin. To hell with cute boys! If we’re still single by the end of school you and I should date.”

“Do I not count as a cute boy?” Bemused, Jaemin raised an eyebrow. “My traitorous sixteen-year-old heart would have literally dropped to my feet if you had offered then. You should try that line on him sometimes and see how he reacts. Maybe he’d shriek.” 

“Jaemin,” Jeno said. “You shouldn’t jump to conclusions simply based on the way he reacted, for all you know, he might be in the closet…” 

There was the shuffle of footsteps outside. All three of them watched a shadow behind the classroom windows gliding across to the door. Renjun merely glanced up the slightest fraction from his assignment. “Who’s that?” 

“JENO!” A voice hollered. The door slid open with a bang. Jeno winced. 

In the storm of a whirlwind in came Chenle, an instrument bag strapped to his back. It made him look smaller than he was. Jeno, unlike himself, felt his mouth open a little. He could already picture Jaemin’s amused gaze on the other end. He walked in, head held high with purpose. With little gracefulness he placed the guitar onto the table, an awful noise reverberating, of wood against plastic, He still held onto the headstock. 

“What are you doing here, Chenle?” Renjun asked cooly as if his name had just called from a distance, the picture of serenity. As serene as a boy could be while swamped with homework, that was. 

Chenle grinned a shark-like grin, pointing to the instrument he had strode in with. “This is for Jeno.” Then he turned his attention onto Jeno, his smile still wide like he had found an opening in his enemy’s defence. “He said that if he had an instrument, he would _most definitely_ play with me.”

With a flourish, Jaemin swiped the guitar from the bag. It was a weathered thing, smelling like it had been packed away in a dusty corner for a very long time. Its age meant that he expected the strings to be worn, but they were silvery in the light. They must have been replaced. Jeno couldn’t help guiding the guitar away from Jaemin’s tight hold, guiding it into his lap to feel it. As reluctant as he had been to the idea of performing, he was surprised regardless at its arrival. 

“Is that right?” Jaemin asked kindly. “You said that?”

Jeno resisted the urge to roll his eyes, still looking away from Chenle. “Yes I did, Jaemin. Yes, I did.” 

“So?” Chenle’s eyes met his. Why exactly did he seem so much like a hopeful puppy who wouldn’t stay off his lap? “I can pick a song. Something simple, off the radio. Or a Chinese pop song, I can sing it. I’ll do the research, I can learn it and teach you. Please? I told Miss Kim about the idea already and she liked it.”

 _Fait accompli_ , his mind chimed in a quiet uproar. _This is unfair! I got backed into a corner!_

Jeno knew to surrender when he was defeated. He gave a slow, stiff, near imperceptible nod. 

The happiness Chenle radiated was blinding. He bounded over in a couple of steps. He sat down on the floor next to the desk Jeno was sitting at, placing a folded piece of notebook paper on the table and began firing off the nitty-gritty details. 

“Well you see, I think that it would be better for us to discuss at my house. Mainly because it’s mostly just me. It’s super roomy and you’ll like it. Does your house have room for an instrument? Also, I’m thinking about maybe playing Ed Sheeran…”

__

The bus slowed to a jerky stop. Jeno got up, stepping off the platform and not bothering to glance back when the bus sped off in the distance. 

This was a part of the city he hadn’t frequented, so the sights were all unfamiliar. It was more of an area where the international students would live, not unlike Renjun, who had assimilated into Korea at a younger age; somewhere that you usually wouldn’t spare a second glance, because there were only stretches of low-rise, single-family houses, no fancy malls or shopping districts. 

It did feel like Chenle, though. It was the murmuring, low tones of humble shophouses with foreign lettering on their signs; imported products with a taste of home its residents left behind and restaurants with tables spilling onto the corners of the road. Jeno took it in with an air of inexperience, gathering his thoughts and allowing himself to be swept into the omnipotent warbling of the reclusive neighbourhood. 

It felt like the next step, in a way, to go to the neighbourhood where Chenle lived. Ever since Chenle had told him about what had been troubling him before he came here, Jeno had wondered if they would grow closer as friends. It was the law of giving and receiving. He told Chenle about his problems, Chenle told him about his own. Chenle went to his house and now Jeno would go to Chenle’s.

Of course, his unbecoming heart fluttered irrationally at the thought, because he was a prisoner to his feelings, but he wanted to open up his arms and give it precedence over his state of mind. He had never thought about friendship in such rigid terms before… 

His brows furrowed as he glanced back down at his phone. Chenle had said he would come to fetch him from here since his home was in the deeper parts of this district, but there was no sign of him yet. He shrugged the guitar off his back, massaging his other spent shoulder half-heartedly. A flash of baleful irritation snapped at him once he had felt the orange fur under his clothes shift painfully against the fabric. He glared at the floor. 

“Hi. Ready to go?” Jeno glanced back up, Chenle standing a redlight crosswalk away with his hands shoved into his pockets. He was dressed in something lighter, something he’d probably wear at home, a pair of slip-ons on his feet despite the air conditioner weather. Smiling, the older boy walked across to join him. 

“This place is rather quiet, isn’t it?” 

“Isn’t that what makes it even better? It feels homely.” Chenle led him a few steps ahead. “Would have been a nice place to run away when I had started arguing with _my_ parents.”

A cast of the later evening had shadowed the sky. They walked by a couple of shops, Jeno’s gaze keeping a watchful eye of his surroundings. They had reached a fancier section where the houses were for families as Jeno had imagined. Right outside its grasp, there was a small eatery, buzzing with patrons for dinner. 

“I haven’t eaten, so I’ll just go get some takeout and we’ll be on our way,” Chenle said. 

It was warm and musty inside. They waited by the side for his order. There was a young lady in an apron standing by the door, chatting to an animated Chenle in excited, jittery Chinese. Then he stopped as if remembering who he was with, hauling Jeno over to say hello. 

“This is my sister-in-law’s second cousin, Zilin,” he said, gesturing towards her. A distant relation, only by marriage. Yet they were acquainted. Chenle must have been closer to his brother than Jeno had thought. “She works here part-time. I come here for meals most of the time, but she’s here once in a while, so I’ve got to say hello when I can.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever met my second cousin, let alone my cousin-by-marriage.”

“Well,” said Chenle, “during the new year I see everybody. My grandfather lives in the biggest house out of all my relatives, so we’re always hosting guests. It can get lonely here. It’s nice to have someone I know around.”

 _I’ve never been a stickler for tradition_ , Jeno thought. _Well, I’ve never been apart from my family for such a long time, so I wouldn’t know he feels._

As they climbed over the steps to Chenle’s house, right, a _house_ , you would think that a student like him would be living in an apartment in some complex, no, he was too expensive for that. 

“Do you live alone?” he asked. 

“That’s a silly question. A definite yes. Welcome to my crash pad,” Chenle quipped, eyes twinkling as he smiled at Jeno’s laugh, keys tapping against each other in his hand as he unlocked the door and pushed it open. He pried off his shoes with the other hand, the sound of light switches being flicked on “Make yourself at home.”

It was so much like Renjun’s home and so much not like it at the same time. Maybe it was because both of the residences weren’t lived in. The ceilings were high with a short staircase descending upwards, with a large living room and enough space for Jeno to dance around if he wished. There was an abundance of space for just _one_ person. 

It was as if Chenle hadn’t established his presence fully in the house, a sparse brush of homely touch here and there with a couple of pictures hung on the wall and a small cupboard next to the coffee table piled high with books.

Jeno clapped a hand over his mouth, taken aback by the sudden icy awake feeling that flooded his consciousness, he wanted to spontaneously remove the contents of his stomach, this horrible burst of wrongness, that he _did not belong here, get out, you cannot stay here,_ but he has just enough of himself not to keel over. He stumbled back, knocking into a small table behind him with his elbow. There was a soft series of clinks as if some metal had landed on the carpet and rolled away. 

“Jeno?” Chenle was concerned, shutting the door and leaning over to check his temperature with the back of a hand. It was like gravity had ceased to exist and then everything came crashing back down again all in one fell swoop. At the moment the feeling left him unpinned, swaying and leaning against Chenle’s warm shoulder.

“I felt super nauseous out of the blue, but it’s gone now. It’s alright,” said Jeno, not wanting to press it further. It was there and then it wasn't, no big deal.” 

The boy still appeared unconvinced but led him in by the hand anyway up the stairs. “You stay here. I’ll get you a glass of water,” he said, worried. Jeno felt something swoop low in his stomach. It was the most curious feeling. 

Jeno put his bag down by Chenle’s bed before they entered another room. It was exciting, admittedly. This was a chance for him to peer into a part of Chenle he had never seen before, where he lived, namely; what he would learn here would arise solely from inference. Chenle stuck a foot out, dragging the stool towards himself for Jeno. 

“You told me to do the research so I figured something out. Narrowed it down to two songs.” He waved two pieces of paper in front of Jeno, dropping it in his lap. Jeno unravelled the folded parchment. “Red Bean and Time For The Moon Night.”

“Red Bean?” asked Jeno. 

“It’s a Chinese song.” Chenle cracked his knuckles and shook his shoulders out, humming some notes. He had a light singing voice, unpolished, mostly. It was lovely. Jeno wondered what exactly Chenle’s preference was, to pick out these songs, but didn’t feel like speaking up. He glanced at the music sheet, strumming experimentally. 

“By doing a duet,” began Chenle, already playing the piece, slowly doing it key-by-key. “There are parts that the guitar does that the piano lacks and vice versa. Then, they meet together. Harmonisation. That’s in layman terms. You can learn individually, then fine-tuning together. Can we do that?

“I don’t think I could do everything at once.”

“Practice takes time.” He smiled kindly at Jeno. “Give it a shot.”

He stayed in one corner initially, hovering over his phone for reference, while Chenle continued to take to the piece easily. Red Bean was a song he had never heard before.

Secretly he had been pleased with the possibility of spending time at Chenle’s house, but his mood was effectively shattered when he figured out that he had to sound out the song on his own. He wanted something out of those cheesy dramas; he didn’t know, maybe them accidentally having their fingers brush against one another? His expectations were excessively high nowadays. What a letdown. He tried his best not to come off as too despondent as he worked his way through the song. 

“Ugh,” he mumbled. “If I had some talent like you, Chenle, maybe I’d get this to work.” From the corner of his eye, he could see him stifle a wince, uncomfortable at the words. Jeno wasn’t sure what he had done wrong. 

It was starting to get cold outside. Jeno, hunched over his guitar, strummed and strummed until his back ached from the stress of sitting up straight until the sun dipped against the horizon. It was late and he had to leave soon, but he would try to practice more when he got home.

“Do you want me to bring you to the bus stop? It’s only a short walk, ” said Chenle stiffly. It was as if he didn’t want Jeno to leave which he honestly didn’t mind. But it was already rather late, and perhaps Chenle didn’t want to walk back as he was tired. 

Jeno wanted time for himself to think, so he said, “It’s fine. I know the way back.” 

He ambled along the path from the house that linked back to the pavement, among the well-tended gardens. He stopped, staring at a bush that just shaved a chipped side of the path, the way prey would see the yellow, beady eyes of a predator in its last moments. 

_You have not understood. You must leave here. You do not belong in this place. Go or suffer._

Bile rose up. The world slithered out of focus, shattering and falling apart. As fast as he could, he tried to finish the walk on the walkway, but his legs folded uselessly underneath him and he fainted.  
__

Jeno dreamed. 

He was sitting in a chair. The music sheets he had in his hands melted away into a thick set of divorce papers. He waited for the shuffle of footsteps, the tell-tale, lithe steps that travelled down the hallway, before shoving it under her undergarment drawer. 

He looked into the mirror, and a woman looked back at him. She was wearing something that should have felt wholly inappropriate, a tight-fitting shirt with the outline of her bra underneath, a flared skirt that stopped above her knees, an outfit Jeno somehow knew was meant to be shocking and outrageous. 

When he turned around, there was a man at the door of his bedroom. 

“Are you truly going?”

“How dare you ask me such a question,” Jeno heard himself say in a dulcet soprano, trembling with anger, “I have disgraced your family, you ought to let me go.”

_How dare he, truly… he would never understand as a son of this house… he was supposed to be her friend, her husband, in sickness and in health… had he been blind to his family’s actions the entire time, or had he not bothered to speak up for her… she ought to tear him a new one… left her to suffer… staying silent was as good as being the hand who beat her…_

Something nudged against his lips. “Jeno,” the voice crooned. “Eat up. I know you’re awake.”

He sat up. Hot soup warmed the inside of his mouth, sweet corn and softened tomato. Reluctantly Jeno cracked an eye open. To his surprise, Chenle’s profile was resting close to his, limbs slung over an armchair. Jeno could count every eyelash aflutter on his pale cheek. 

With a start he jolted up, twisting his neck away from Chenle before his face would give him away, suddenly feeling the weight of a heavy blanket over his legs and arms up to his elbows. What time was it? It felt like his body had been dragged across a hard surface like a rag doll, every muscle groaning, eyelids still heavy. He shut an eye, wincing at the bright living room light. “Wha’ happened?” 

“You fainted! Ugh, you gave me a heart attack. I thought there was something wrong with you, but the physician I called over simply said you had fallen asleep.” Chenle put a hand on his forehead and he had to fight the heat rising in his cheeks. “Are you feeling better?” 

He felt terribly apologetic. “I’m sorry for worrying you.”

“It’s alright, sleeping beauty,” Chenle said jokingly, “do you happen to be an insomniac?” 

“I’m definitely not. I don’t have any ailments which would have caused such a thing.”

Maybe… it was that _one_ ailment… 

He remembered. He yanked down the hem of his shirt which had ridden up in his sleep. There was still an undulating fear that someone would find out about his curse. 

Chenle _was_ needed to break it, but Jeno wasn’t certain whether he wanted him to know. Of course, he was being silly, even if Chenle saw the orange hair growing on his legs and arms, it didn’t mean he would know about his curse. 

“How long since I fainted?” He scooped up the bowl himself as Chenle checked the clock, relishing the food. He was more hungry than he had thought. 

“Six hours,” announced Chenle. Jeno choked on his soup. 

His mind was swirling. Did he stay overnight? He was on Chenle’s bed? Why was he on his bed? It would have been better if he was on the couch. This felt too intimate. He hadn’t been tended to while sick since he was ten. He normally just went down to the pharmacy, ate some medicine and slept it off. Someone hovering over him was never part of the equation. Lovers did that. He ought to apologise. But you couldn’t help fainting… should he apologise…?

“I got your sister’s number from Renjun, she knows, don’t worry. It’s 1am. You’ve been out for a while. It wasn’t planned, but you can stay over. Renjun insisted you should stay over.” It was as if Chenle had read his mind. 

“Stay over?” Jeno squeaked. He hadn’t made such a sound since his voice broke. 

“Is there a problem? If you’re afraid of it being uncomfortable, you’re on my bed. I couldn’t make you sleep on the couch. You’re a guest! And you’re my friend.”

_And you’re my friend._

It was as if Chenle knew he had to be reassured, somehow. 

“No. It’s just—” He could never say such a thing aloud. “—I didn’t expect it. I’m sorry for imposing on you.” 

He didn’t want to sleep again, lest he would dream once more. 

He peered out of the room. The rest of the house was shrouded in darkness. Secretly he wished that he could see more of Chenle’s things, if he could see what made him tick. There was the soft glow of the lamp by the bedside, illuminating Chenle, who was dressed down in track pants and a shirt. 

“I should go and sleep in the living room,” the younger boy said, taking the bowl away. “G’nite. Sleep tight.”

“Wait!” His protests surprised even himself. “You should sleep in your bed instead,” he slid out of the covers, “I’ve been asleep for so long, I’m definitely going to catch a wink of sleep tonight. Could you scoot over?” 

Chenle obliged him. When Jeno returned from closing the door, he looked quizzically at him, as if he was asking ‘ _what next?_ ’ 

There was a small armchair in the corner of the room, so Jeno sat down, sticking his legs out, feet resting on the edge of the mattress. He picked up the blanket which had been thrown to the corner, laying it out over Chenle and tucking it into the corners of the bed, all while dutifully avoiding the younger boy’s gaze. “Thank you for taking care of me, you must be tired, the armchair will be fine, good night.” 

“Did you say that all in one breath?” 

“I’m trying to usher you to sleep,” Jeno said matter-of-factly. 

“Are you like this with Renjun and Jaemin? When you have sleepovers.” Chenle tucked his knees under his chin, eyes shiny from shafts of near-transparent moonlight, “do you make them go to bed like little children?”

“First of all, this isn’t a sleepover. And secondly, we usually stay up late, watching films. Why did you stay up, waiting for me to wake up?” 

“I could hear your stomach rumble,” said Chenle, and Jeno made a disbelieving noise, that wasn’t a _real_ answer, “what’s the point of a sleepover if you don’t sleep?”

“We _do_ sleep on school days, it just depends on what kind of day it is. Go to bed.”

The tell-tale shimmer of raindrops shone against the windowpane. 

“Ugh,” Jeno let his head loll, “This is going to be a long night. Could I ask you a question?”

Chenle huffed, fringe fluttering against his face. He looked like a pearl, shining yet dull, protected under the shell of a thick blanket. “Shoot.”

“I saw you were… hesitant when I praised you.” He sank deeper into his chair, tracing aimless circles on the ceiling with his eyes. “Is there something wrong? Did I say the wrong thing?”

The jaws of Chenle’s shell snap shut firmly. “You didn’t.”

"That wasn't nothing. I can tell," Jeno said forcefully, slipping into the role of a concerned friend. Chenle turned around to look at him in the darkness, eyes a tad wider than before. He didn't expect someone to notice, Jeno realised.

"It really is. Seriously! I'm not joking. I take lots of things way too seriously, it's normal for me. It's nothing, alright?" 

Jeno heard Chenle's voice straining with the effort. "You shouldn't be too dismissive with your feelings, Chenle. You can't help it sometimes. If you bottle up too much, you'll be unhappy," he told him. 

"As much as you sound like my friends," Chenle began, abruptly light. "I guess I've been keeping it pent up for too long." It was as if a shot of dopamine had been administered directly to Jeno's arms. He resisted the urge to do a little happy dance. Small victories. 

"I've not told anyone this before. Not since I came to Korea, I mean. It helps that we aren't well acquainted. I would never tell my parents that.” 

Jeno decided to take a page out of Jaemin’s book, scooting over to the corner of the armchair and placing what he hoped was a comforting hand on Chenle’s shoulder. The soft, welcome surprise that blossomed across Chenle’s features made him relieved. He did the right thing. 

"I’m just iffy with compliments. I’ve been playing the piano for, forever,” Chenle said dryly, rolling over to the other side of the bed away from Jeno, “And I was really talented. I’m not gonna lie. And my parents were, saying stuff about how I should show it off, I had piano recitals, I was the coolest kid around.” 

His sentences were blurring together. It was charming, in a way, to hear him talk lazily. 

"When I got older, there were plenty of other teens who could do what I did, even better. I…” Chenle weakly gestured, “wasn’t so cool anymore. Blah blah blah, I only got compliments because of my talent, I had no sense of worth, sad stuff. It was pretty upsetting. I asked to study in Korea like how my brother did. I swore to leave music behind and start liking me for me. I guess you touched on a sore spot. No need to apologise, it happens, alright?"

It was as if this had been brewing for a long time, and Chenle was trying to give a nondescript version of his events as possible, haphazardly piecing words together whenever he could. It must not be easy, especially in a second language. 

"Thank you for telling me. I'm proud of you," Jeno blurted out, flushing as Chenle met his eyes. "It must have taken a lot of maturity to recognise that."

Chenle softened. "It did," he admitted. "I'm glad I figured that out. Still regret not figuring it out sooner, though.”

They didn’t exchange a single word for the next while. Jeno listened to him breathe, waiting until Chenle’s breathing evened out into the folds of sleep. He tried to make himself comfortable, leaning closer against the cushions and propping his head up with a hand. 

That was what the tarot cards said. Nightmares. Headaches. He had been steadily keeping track of those ailments, but he hadn’t dared to admit it to himself. 

How much of Renjun’s things were superstition, and what was real? 

He hadn’t missed the way his friend had flinched at his card reading. It must have been exceptionally dire… perhaps this was all just a coincidence, or it might be a part of the curse. Jeno had a feeling that he was _missing_ something, whatever it was, it could be a piece of the puzzle. 

There were surely some loopholes he could exploit. He had thought about orchestrating a truth or dare game, so that maybe, Jaemin could dare Chenle to declare his love for Jeno, along those lines. But it wouldn’t technically count as confessing, it would be as good as a deadpan recital. Maybe it would have to be sincere, coming for the heart. The possibility of it happening seemed so small, 

Even if Chenle liked him as well, what if he was the one who wanted to be confessed to? That meant Jeno would have to be the proactive one, and what if he was mistaken, and Chenle had never liked him at all? The embarrassment would die after some time, but he wouldn’t be able to talk to Chenle, for the sake of his pride. 

He crushed his fists, lifting one to lightly smack his forehead. Why was everything so complicated… 

Chenle had told him a secret of his own. Thinking about it made him feel strangely… touched? He trusted him. They were friends. That truth made him much happier, not because he was relieved to be getting closer to his goal, but because they were growing closer. If he got out of this intact, he still wanted to spend time with Chenle, outside of school, just like this. And maybe, Jeno would, eventually, tell him a secret too. 

He glanced over to where the younger boy was sleeping. It was a state that Jeno had never seen him in before. Chenle always appeared to carry himself with this easy grace, confidence that most people his age hardly possessed. In that aspect Jeno definitely envied him. Sleeping like this, however, was different. He was vulnerable in this state, blissfully unaware, mouth a little open, bangs fluttering over his forehead as he breathed in… breathed out. 

Jeno wanted to do something sappy, like brush back Chenle’s hair, or stroke his arm, anything sweet to ease the slow twinge in his heart. 

Time went by slowly. A misty, earthy drenching scent crept up his nose. He walked over to the half-open window, trying not to wake the other boy in the room. Rain smelled unlike itself at night. The only droplets that seemed to hang in the air were the ones that would catch the glare of the light and disappeared out of sight within the rest of the dark. He listened to it dance its own tune on the windowpane but the steady rhythm did not lull him. 

There was an empty silence. Then thunder struck. It was like the angry flash of a drum, sullen and sonorous, rumbling ominously. The rain drummed louder, adding to the cacophony. 

There was a soft groan. Jeno turned around. Another clap of thunder boomed loudly. Chenle was fidgeting in his bed, shoulders shaking, face buried into another pillow. 

“Chenle? Are you awake?” whispered Jeno, concerned. He would have woken up in this kind of noise as well. He closed the window to shut the sound out, lamenting the lack of thick curtains to drown it out completely. 

“I’m awake.” Chenle sat up. Although his voice was smooth, Jeno could tell that he was trying to not sound overly shaky. 

He crawled over, sitting at the side of the bed. Chenle took a pillow, settling and crumpling it into his chest. “Are you scared?” 

“Sort of.” Thunder struck once more, crackling and seething. “Shit!”

“Sure you’re not scared now?” asked Jeno, words playful but not bluntly so. He gently took Chenle’s hand into his lap to ease his fear. His palm was sweaty, skin pale against Jeno’s own. Chenle’s trembling let up slightly, but it remained. “Are you scared of the sound, or…?”

“The sound,” the boy answered steadily. So Jeno would have to help him block it out. He gestured to Chenle to face the wall, away from the view of the storm outside. “Do you have headphones?” 

Chenle pointed to the shelf, so Jeno reached for it, linking it to his phone and gave it to Chenle. The boy’s eyes flashed with astonishment, but he took it anyway. Their gazes met as Jeno gave it to him. He could have sworn the world had stopped for a moment. Then Chenle quickly looked away. 

Jeno shifted just the slightest bit nearer to him. He wrapped an arm around Chenle’s shoulders and pulled him close, waiting to see if he would reject the touch. Chenle tilted his head, inclining against Jeno, a warm weight on his shoulder. It must have not been as comfortable as the bed. But Chenle slipped back into a restful slumber anyway

It was only now that Jeno realised how close they were. He didn’t have the grace to blush, so he closed his eyes as well. 

He would end up sleeping dreamlessly as well. Maybe it was the warm presence next to his, that helped him sleep. Or perhaps, he was appeasing the curse they had, by being close together. Jeno revelled in it regardless.

When his father came to pick him up the next day, he went through the back door instead, and that made all the difference.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> attempts foreshadowing... 
> 
> UGHH EDITING THIS CHAPTER GAVE ME BRAIN DAMAGE FR


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> this chapter was to establish smth heh

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This fic: nobody loves me
> 
> Me: BUT _I_ LOVE YOU

He had been in a bad mood before the sun rose. Since he had gotten up at an ungodly hour, trying out a new recipe of crispy deep-fried squid. While trying to keep the bottle of oil he had dropped it onto the shelf and some of it got on himself. Then he forgot about it, trying to turn off the music he was playing out loud, but he got oil all over his screen. He could still feel the phantom grease of it rubbing underneath their thumb. 

So _that_ was why he narrowed his eyes in irritation every time an audition was too long. 

Although Chenle and Jeno had volunteered to be part of a performer, the Halloween dance would not be eight minutes long. They had decided on both songs. 

But there were very little participants who were truly serious about the whole ordeal. It made sense, though. There was no incentive to encourage them to perform and the Halloween dance had always been an incredibly unfashionable event. 

"What did you think of the participants so far?" said Jeno, impatiently tapping one end of his pen against his paper. It was a photocopy of the sign-up sheet they'd pinned on the 5th-floor notice board. 

Aside from the inappropriate drawings scrawled across its lines, it had the most amount of names as compared to the rest of the sheets. He didn't even know why he bothered asking Yeji the perfunctory question. 

"The first years are okay, I suppose. Apple can hold a note if she tries harder," he frowned at the mention of the Thai girl, she wasn't tone-deaf, that was all. "I don't know how beat-boxing would be like on a stage. And… hm… Ren is good on rollerblades?" 

"Why are you so patronising today? Normally your patience for me is hanging by a thread," he said. Yeji grabbed an onion ring and stuffed it into her mouth. "What is Tanaka going to do? Rollerblade in front of a crowd for five minutes? Please." 

Yeji glared at him, but her glare wasn't potent. "Her name is Ren, you dolt. She has two older sisters studying here and you'll get them mixed up if you refer to her by her surname. Also, they're first years. I'm not going to be an idiot to them. They're your juniors. I'm not like you. You only like one first year, but he doesn't count." 

The mention of Chenle somehow annoyed him even further. He was the one Jeno had woken up at the crack of dawn to cook for, but some way or another the boy had wriggled out of audition duty because he was _‘busy.’_ A likely story!

And what happened on Friday was that they had a _moment_ when they learnt more about each other. He didn’t entirely know what that was about, but it happened, and it meant something significant. 

He hadn't told Renjun about it yet, but he had texted Jaemin once he was back in his room. He had only exchanged a few texts with Chenle then, and that was solely because of the upcoming duet. Thinking of it installed an uneasy flutter in his tummy. 

There was a frenetic knocking on the door. Both of them groaned under their breath. Yeji resumed her prim, know-it-all, suck-up attitude that Jeno hated so very much, and called, “Come in!”

“I thought those were the last of the first years,” muttered Jeno. 

“Well, suck it up, because we still have our seniors after this,” she shot back. 

He tried his best to smile, but it must have looked awfully wobbly. Four girls walked in with varying gaits. They were wearing eccentric clothing as well, apparel that seemed more suited for a stage performance if anything. Among them, there was Soso too, slinking behind a taller friend. 

“May I come in?” Jaemin was there too, out of the blue. He must have been friends with one of the people auditioning. 

Jeno was secretly relieved to have him there. “Hi,” said Jeno gratefully, moving aside and patting the extra space on the chair he was sitting on. 

Jaemin’s thigh knocked against his own and he lazily wound an arm over Jeno’s shoulders. “Don’t mind me, Hwang. I could feel my friend suffering from outside, and you know how much my company soothes him.” His tone was teasing. Jeno could see the girls stiffening at Jaemin’s observant gaze. He knew why they were like that, though, he was aware of how popular his best friend was among girls. 

Jaemin’s bisexuality was an open secret, in a sense. Their classmates knew. He never bothered to hide it, while Jeno’s own was just there. If you knew you knew, and since nobody had openly given him shit about it because he had the camaraderie of the football team. He didn’t think it a big deal. 

“Hi, Soso,” Jeno said. Soso’s face brightened, then she waved. Today she was wearing a white shirt and neon pink skinny jeans. Her friends were dressed oddly too. Now that he looked at Soso carefully, she _did_ have a dancer’s lean but strong physique. She slipped a speaker the size of a golf ball out onto the floor. They were going to dance…?

Soso had wide shoulders which tapered down to a narrow waist and narrower hips; Jeno could see why his teammates would fawn over her. He watched in mild fascination as the girls shakily arranged themselves into a formation. 

"I recognise this one," whispered Yeji in severe tones. He perked up to listen. "They're dancing to Gee." 

The spare classroom was large and roomy. Jeno was thankful for that. Had they been in a place any smaller, the girls would have to squeeze their formation down to fit. He hadn't listened to Gee in years. 

As the beat of the song started playing, Jeno saw them spin into place. They didn't sing, they mouthed the lyrics. Right away he could see how Soso stood out from the others. 

He was reminded of Chenle, with the fluid elegance that didn't make any sense to be in such a cheery, simple dance. It was like Soso didn't have to look at herself because she possessed the simple yet firm belief in herself; that her arms and legs would go the right way. It was not the same kind of practiced movements the other girls possessed. She made dancing seem like second nature. There was a wide smile that didn't leave her face throughout. 

Soso liked what she did. 

Jaemin started clapping. Jeno and Yeji joined in their rapturous, three-person applause before the endnotes of Gee dissolved into the more robotic, strangely endearing movements of Sexy Love. He wanted to say something like 'that's all, isn't it obvious that you're on the team' but he supposed watching one more performance wouldn't hurt. 

“That,” Jaemin said, a beat into the silence, “was great. Fantastic. Ten out of ten. YOU’RE HIRED!”

“Oi, you’re not even on the committee. You don’t make the decisions,” said Jeno, but he was smiling at Jaemin’s reaction. 

“What he said. I don’t think it requires any further scrutiny or consideration, really. That was wonderful. Could I get your numbers and your names, please? We’ll form a group chat.”

They gathered around the table, talking animatedly among themselves and with Yeji. She appeared to be acquainted with a few of them as well. A small, mousy girl wasn't staying within their ranks, though, she drifted more towards where Jaemin and Jeno were seated, looking rather timid. Maybe she was trying to work up the courage to talk to Jaemin? 

Soso ran up to her, clung onto her arm and grinned amicably at Jeno. “Looks like Yingying wanted to say hi. How are you?”

He propped up his head with his hands to return the grin. “I didn’t know you could move like that. You’re a great dancer. Pity the school doesn’t have a club for that, but good for the cheerleading club ‘cause they’ve got a member like you in it.”

“Thank you, as usual,” said Soso, amused. He was surprised at how easy words seemed to flow between them. “I’d like to give you a compliment as well, but I don’t think I could compliment you on the way you sit, can I?”

Her friend Yingying was standing there as if she was frozen, eyeing the two of them dumbly like she wasn’t certain what to say or do. He understood that feeling when you’d prepared an entire conversation in your head, but it would fall apart once he was going to start talking. Even until now Jeno still empathised with the girls and occasional boy who mustered up the courage to come up to Jaemin, because his friend would just look back at them, a seemingly impassive look on his handsome face which would tongue-tie them immediately.

Keeping an eye on her still, Jeno slightly tugged on Jaemin’s fingers that dangled over his shoulder to get his attention. 

“That poor girl is just standing there, Jaem. Say something,” urged Jeno. Yingying then gave them a funny look, before disappearing back into the background. Oh well. He tried his best. He decided to pull his focus back to Soso. 

“We’ll be seeing more of each other, right? I hope I’ll get to know you better.”

“Yes, we will. Honestly, I’m surprised we haven’t been introduced yet. If not for the dance, I think we’d get to know each other some way or another how things are going,” Soso said, picking up the speaker. “I’ll see you around?”

“I will.” When the classroom lost their extra occupants, Jeno sagged back against Jaemin, ignoring his friend’s loud complaints. 

“What was that about?” asked Yeji. She balled up the rest of the papers, tossing it to one corner of the class where it would never be picked up again for another five months. 

The door slid open a minimal fraction. 

“AUDITIONS ARE OVER!” The boy on the other side let out a surprised squeak and shuffled away. 

“What was that about?” asked Jaemin. Jeno didn’t know how to answer for the second time. 

__

Somehow, for their first rehearsal, Jeno and Chenle managed to start playing at completely different times, and Jeno was off-key, too. It took all his willpower not to slap a hand over his cheeks because they felt like they were on fire and Jeno knew he was probably blushing really hard. 

At most he knew it would only be a slight tinge of red on his complexion, but it felt very incriminating nonetheless.

“Sorry for messing up so much,” he mumbled, absently rubbing his bandage-wrapped fingertips over the smooth wood. He knew Chenle was disappointed if the exasperated sighs were anything to go by. He couldn’t help it but knowing that didn’t make messing up any easier.

At least he could say that he was getting the hang of playing the guitar after such a long time. 

“It’s fine,” said Chenle, but from the slight furrow in his eyebrow, Jeno could tell he was irritated. 

Surely he must be; the tics were all there, besides, who wouldn’t be annoyed with him? If Jeno was Chenle he’d be irritated too, except that he would try to mask it and it would result as an uncomfortable jerk of the eye he’d call a twitch. 

Of course, if someone else was disappointed in him he’d be upset, but it felt as if it would have been Jaemin or Renjun doing the resigned head-shaking instead. Jeno didn’t like the edge Chenle had over him just because he liked the boy. It was disturbing. 

Chenle left, figure slinking away. “Goodbye,” Jeno said, mostly to himself, before placing the guitar in its bag and strapping it to his back. He still wanted to stay for a bit, though. Practice a little, maybe. 

“Hello to you!” Soso was standing at the door. Jeno’s mouth went dry. He supposed he had a little friend crush on her. What not to like? She got along well with his friends, liked speaking in riddles, sort of mystified him and had a nice smile. She would be a good friend, was what he had thought. 

“Hi.” He was sitting on the floor, so the sharp turn he took to meet her gaze was so sudden it left a crick in his neck. He was happy to see her, but they had only properly talked a few times. It would be wholly inappropriate to do such a thing. 

Yerim told him half of her friends that she’d met in university had built a fast friendship over a bottle of wine. Alcohol eases barriers to fall, she had said. Unfortunately, he would never do such a thing and thinking about approaching her like that sounded absurd. He felt misplaced, never being the one to be proactive in making friends. 

Now he was lamenting again. 

“Don’t mind Chenle. He can be an idiot sometimes. I don’t think he realises that people are usually a genius through effort,” she quipped. 

Although her tone was crass, he recognised it at once. It was the one that friends would use on each other. He knew that the two of them, Chenle and Soso would be acquainted with each other at a minimum because the Chinese-speaking community in school was close-knit, but since they were in the same year, they must have been closer than Jeno had thought. 

Belatedly, he realised that Chenle had never mentioned Soso to him, but then again, he had no reason to. “Thanks. Do you think I’ll be able to manage?” 

Soso blinked. 

“Manage this performance, I mean. All I did today was mess up like a fool. Thinking of performing in front of a crowd makes me want to hurl. How am I going to do this? How did I agree to this?” Jeno buried his face in his hands. 

Uncertain, she awkwardly patted his shoulder. “Oh…! Hey, it’s okay. Want an egg? Eating one always makes me feel better.” 

It was when he saw the small lunchbox in her lap, eggshells scattered about inside, one nice white hard-boiled egg pinched between her fingers and dangled in front of his face. Jeno stared at it for a moment, then let out a loud laugh at the absurdity of it all. 

“I don’t like my yolks like that, but I’m hungry,” he said. It was a small snack but it curbed the insistent growl of his stomach. “Thanks.”

She carefully deshelled the other egg she had. Some bits of shell drizzled over the floor. Somehow, she had brought a pepper shaker with her...? She didn't rattle and shake it incessantly over the egg, a habit that Jaemin has, but she tapped at its bottom with one sparkly red acrylic nail, going _tak, tak, tak_ insistently. Somehow he didn’t find himself as annoyed as he should be.

Because he couldn’t think of anything else to say, he stupidly asked, “How’s rehearsals?” 

“It’s alright.” A yolk bit dribbled down her chin. She clumsily wiped at it using the back of her hand. “It’s fine, I suppose, we’ve been practising a lot before that, we’re just going through the motions, y’know? When you dance a routine long enough you basically commit it to muscle memory.” The ghost of a smile flitted across her face. “I mean. I’d know this fact most intimately.”

“Right. Cheerleader thing?” She gave him an approving toast with her half-eaten egg and all, pinky sticking out. “It’s the same thing with guitar-piano duets, I suppose?” The first step is to stop stumbling over the notes. Already it seemed quite close to impossible.

It was sympathy, he thought, that odd little expression on her face. “I promise you’ll figure this out. We all hit a block sometimes,” she said earnestly, eyes twinkling. “Once you clear this block you’ll definitely be strumming at that guitar like a champ on the big day. I’m speaking from experience. When I started dancing it was a struggle.”

Okay, perhaps that had been empathy instead. 

“Yeah, the total opposite of two left feet,” he said. 

“What _is_ the opposite of two left feet?” She tapped at her chin. 

“One right foot,” she said, deadpan. To his mortification, he realised he couldn’t tell whether Soso was joking. It was amusing. He had the feeling that he would be staying here longer than he had originally planned, so he wound his hands around the guitar again, trying to strum from memory. 

When it was time for him to perform on stage, he wouldn’t have a music sheet in front of him to read off. If he couldn’t remember, or worse, if he could remember but he couldn’t recall how to play, he would just sit there like a bumbling fool. Plus he would disappoint Chenle, and turn into a giant orange pom pom right after. There was no easy way out of this. 

“If it helps,” Soso began, gazing over his shoulder, “you could break up the song into chunks, and learn it part by part, then connect everything back together at the end. I do that with more intricate choreography.”

Jeno was already reaching out for his music sheet, a pencil tucked behind his ear. “How many notes should I relegate to each part? Should I do it evenly? Or should I break it off when they start being dissimilar?” 

She looked surprised at how quickly he had taken to the idea, but she aided him in marking out the sections, a silver of her tongue sticking out of the corner of her mouth as she pored over the paper. 

Soon enough he was getting a feel of the first section. Nothing sounded off-key. It could be more pleasant, but it made his heart swell. This wouldn’t be so bad after all. “Thanks a lot for the help, Soso,” he said. 

She looked like a smug cat when she was pleased, he thought, with her lip curling up and all. He ruffled her hair like how his older siblings would, Soso not appearing particularly rifled. Her ponytail was already falling apart anyways. The blue streaks within the black were quite nice.

“Don’t ruffle my hair.” She wrinkled her nose but didn’t swat his hand away. “Are you feeling better?”

“I am,” he said, heading over to turn off the lights in the gym. “It’s getting late. Should we get going?”

He watched her figure go down the hallway. He went down his usual flight of stairs. As he traced his steps, he recalled that one time when he had been upset, when he tried to seek refuge here, and then there was that disturbing twinge that washed over him. Absently he wondered if it was still the same. He made a note to go visit later that week. 

__

When Jeno got home, he could smell onions. Onion omelettes! His favourite kind of food. He had told his family earlier that he would be late today, so it didn’t surprise him to hear the sound of the spatula scraping against the wok. He spotted a pair of Doyoung's sneakers by the door and smiled to himself. 

"Welcome home," a light voice sang. Doyoung. He sped into the kitchen, happy to see his brother there. Really, Jeno should be the one welcoming him back. Ever since Doyoung had moved out, closer to his new university further away, he had been seeing less and less of him. He could have gone to the same one as Yerim, but it would be odd to be in the same year as your younger sister, he supposed. 

Perhaps if he was Yerim he would have kissed him on the cheek, but he was Jeno, so he gave him an appraising look, still happy from previous events. 

He had borrowed a title for the library as part of his occasional reading, so he wanted to slink away to some secluded spot to read. To read he would need absolute peace and quiet. The best place would be his room, but his dad got cross whenever he would stay inside too long. 

So he went into Doyoung’s old room, which had been left bare safe for a bed and a few posters, locked himself inside and curled into himself in a corner of the room. If any of his family wanted to tell him it was dinnertime, they would have to find him first.

After forty-five minutes, he could hear someone pounding on the door. Any more roughly and the whole thing would fall off the hinges. Only Yerim would interrupt him like this. 

“Jeno! OUT! Don’t you want some of Doyoung’s cooking?”

Feeling cheeky, he said, “I am out. Just not to my parents.” 

When she entered the room, her face was all twisted funny. “You’re _so_ corny. Get out.”

Mom and Dad were sitting around the dining table, a rare sight, but whenever Doyoung came home, they would try their best to make time for him. An array of side dishes were already spread out. Everything looked very delicious. 

As they dug into their meal, he watched his family making conversation. Absently, he stuck a spoon of rice to his mouth, zoning out a little. 

“...since Jeno is spending extra time in the kitchen, I think he’ll be able to work part-time jobs in the eatery this summer, like you,” Mum said cheerfully. Doyoung was _definitely_ her favourite child. “Yerim, how come that despite being our only daughter, you don't know as much recipes?”

“ _Mum_ ,” Yerim whined, knocking her chopstick against her bowl as she spoke. “That’s because Doyoung cooked for me whenever we got home.”

Jeno decided to join in then. This was an occasion when they were all gathered together so he should take advantage of it. Should he talk about his day? But he was more comfortable with listening to them ramble, and he wasn’t sure what they would make of him. 

He was still wearing long-sleeved tops at home, regardless of the temperature. If he didn’t have his own room, would they have noticed?

Jeno gave Yerim a playful smirk, jabbing a finger to point at himself. “And when Doyoung left, I was the one cooking for my older sister. I may be the youngest, but she’s spoiled, really.”

“Jeno isn’t simply spending time in the kitchen, Doyoung. He’s bought a recipe book as well,” said Dad. He was wearing the same expression that the aunties in the neighbourhood would make whenever they were dishing out a particularly juicy bit of gossip. 

Oh no. 

Yerim was smiling deviously through a bite of food. 

“Oh? Do elaborate, Dad.” His brother raised an eyebrow, gazing over at Jeno. 

“He’s found a girl who he likes and wants to woo her, so he’s been cooking her favourite things,” continued Dad proudly. “An unconventional method, I’d say, but he’s rather chivalrous. Just like his old man, here! Took me a few tries before I could ask your mother out on a date.” 

“A girl?” God, if Doyoung’s eyebrows went any higher, it’d reach his hairline. Yerim’s smile had completely vanished and she was shooting him very surreptitious looks that were incriminating. She cupped a hand over her face, mouthing, ‘Have you not told them yet?’ Jeno shook his head. 

Mum looked stern. “Don’t you think you should be focusing on your grades instead of girls?”

He was out to both of his siblings because he knew they’d understand. He didn’t exactly trust his parents enough for them to treat his sexuality like it wasn’t a big deal, that this was the way he was. He’d heard stories of parent-child relationships being irreparable after coming out, always distanced and tense. He didn’t want his parents to scorn him just yet, during a time when he was a teenager and was bound to clash with them. 

Jeno reflected wryly on the coming out joke he had made earlier with Yerim. Life loved to play on jokes on you sometimes. 

When they finished dinner, Doyoung was beckoning to him for Jeno to join him in Yerim’s room, then shut the door to keep their parents out. 

“Huh, I could have sworn we’re too old for this kind of thing,” said Jeno. 

Doyoung was on the edge of the bed, while Yerim was on her fluffy pink computer chair, both looking pensive. A disturbing expression indeed, for light-hearted people like themselves.

“We’ve been talking before you came in, discussing what we know,” Doyoung said. His arms were poised together in that staunch manner he assumed whenever he sang. 

Jeno, out of habit, felt himself reach to feel at his sleeve, where a potent amount of hair had been growing. Under the material of his shirt, it had a satisfying texture. He felt Yerim’s eyes follow the miniscule movement. Should he tell them about the curse?

Doyoung patted the space next to him, so he sat down. “Jeno asked me how to seduce someone. I asked why, and then I told him to turn to you for help,” he said slowly. Jeno stared at his feet. They couldn't have figured something out on their own... or could they? 

“If you were wondering,” drawled Yerim, “I believe I told him that the best way to get to a man’s heart is through the stomach. The next week he proceeded to single-handedly occupy the kitchen with a book of Chinese recipes propped up against the wall. Isn’t that right?”

The burn of hot embarrassment flushed through Jeno. Okay, now that he heard that out loud, he honestly sounded as if he was head over heels for Chenle— it had started out as a crush on the cute kid, for crying out loud, maybe it had blossomed into something more— he crossed his arms over his chest defensively. He wasn’t… no. No no no. He wasn’t going to have a revelation while he was getting cross-examined by his family. Not now. 

“I don’t understand. Has he always been like this when he fancies someone?”

Yerim sent Doyoung a rueful grin. “He got new clothes, he borrowed some of my foundation to even out his skin tone. He definitely cares about how he looks around this mystery boy, that’s for sure.”

“What! Has Jeno been bewitched by this boy? I don’t like this.” Doyoung looked as if he was about to start admonishing him, mouth drawn in a tight line. He would make a wonderful lecturer. “I don’t like this at all. Crushes come and go, Nono. You shouldn’t change yourself to make someone else like you.” 

Jeno was irritated at hearing his childhood name slip out. “Changing yourself to suit someone else’s taste will not build a relationship that lasts.”

Yerim swatted at Doyoung’s arm. “Oh, lay off it, relationship expert. It’s nothing like that. It’s just that he wants to look nice for someone he likes. Don’t pretend like you spend some extra time in the mirror when you want to impress a girl.”

“I suppose,” he said, still uncertain. “I know it’s how most people act, but we’re talking about Jeno. I don’t think that he’s ever done this before.”

“Well, there’s a first time for everything,” Jeno mumbled under his breath. They continued to keep to themselves. Why were they talking among themselves as if he wasn’t there?

“You must like this boy very much. You’re not exactly a man of action, you know? I didn’t expect you to be the type to pursue someone in earnest. What brought this on? I’d like to hear a little backstory.” Both of them swivelled around, ganging up on him. 

Sheepishly Jeno rubbed at the back of his neck, silently wishing that his siblings didn’t know him as well he did. He thought of the tale he would have to tell them, the words he would need to use if he had to voice it aloud, how ludicrous it would sound on a scale of ten. Would they believe them? Would he have to tell them about anything odd that had happened since then? 

He figured that visceral evidence would do the trick, so yanked his sleeve up. No unnecessary words needed. 

“I’m not going to say this again, so listen to me carefully. I pissed off a ghost, she cursed me to slowly turn into a monster if my crush doesn’t confess to me. An angry orange pom pom monster. With fur like this.” He pulled it down again to fold his arm behind his back. “No. It’s not because of hormones,” he added swiftly.

“Could you run that by us again?” Doyoung asked, stony-faced. Yerim was gobsmacked, already big eyes the size of saucers. 

So Jeno counted back his steps. “I don’t have a choice, basically. If I had never got cursed, I’d never have approached him.”

Yerim glanced up at him, lost. “I don’t want you to be a monster.”

“He’s too cute to be a monster,” Doyoung amended. “We can’t let that happen.”

Her cheeks and nose were quickly turning ruddy. 

...Yerim was going to cry? Yerim. The same girl who ripped up his homework out of spite, had fistfights with back in primary school and had spontaneous dance sessions in the middle of the day. 

Jeno was a tad discombobulated. This couldn’t be real. He had accepted the fact that the curse would manifest whether he liked it or not, but he hadn’t registered that someone else, namely, Yerim could cry over him, apparently. 

“I’ll figure it out, please don’t start crying because I’d have to hug you and I haven’t taken a shower yet, so I’d be really stinky,” said Jeno quickly. “Wait, you guys actually believe me?”

“Of course we do! Why would you lie about something like this?” Yerim’s protests were vehement. “We’ll try our best to help you if we can. Even if we can’t, we’ll still worry over you like silly, I promise that. Oh, you must be feeling absolutely _awful_ right now.”

He spent a couple of minutes attempting to calm the two of them down, they wouldn’t stop fretting and petting him; as annoying as that was, in truth, he appreciated getting it off his chest and having someone worry over him. He loved his best friends, but it felt like they hadn’t bothered to assure him. Although they were mollycoddling him, they remained a realist with the consequences, recognising the fact that matters might go awry. It was refreshing. 

It was getting late, so he retreated back to his room to prepare for bed and to read a few extra pages of his book, allowing his siblings to discuss among themselves. He had fallen back to the habit of asking them for help, because _hyung_ and _noona_ would solve everything for him, he thought. There were already so many matters to worry about, though.

His bangs were getting too long. He dug his hand through the drawer for a headband to push back his hair, found one and made his way to the bathroom. As usual, he slung a towel over the bathroom mirror before proceeding to run the bath.

He rarely soaked in the tiny bathtub for the sake of efficiency. Today would be different, though. Earlier he had searched up how to mitigate his bad dreams. 

One of the methods was taking a relaxing bath. There were a couple of candles that had been left by the sink. Yerim’s, probably. Briefly, he considered lighting them up, but it reminded him far too much of the vanilla candles Renjun had used to go up the staircase instead of his phone or a flashlight, was it for the ritual? That was stupid. 

Sinking into the warm water, Jeno shut one eye, feeling much more relaxed. He nearly forgot to remove the headband from his wrist to push back his fringe. Lathering face wash onto his hair would be particularly problematic. It was so nice to finally lay back and relax. He could feel his eyelids becoming harder and harder to open. He could nap for a bit. 

_I schooled my expressions into one of stern coldness, one I had been practising in the mirror for ages. I had seen the rest of Jinki’s family argue with my sister-in-laws so many times that I could predict what they would say._

_I withdrew the file of divorce papers and cast it out across the desk. “Please don’t attempt to guilt-trip me. Frankly, it’s quite pathetic. I do not care for the image of the family, as it has never cared for me. I do not wish to remain here any longer, lest it rots my soul.”_

_“You do not understand. Divorce is impossible. A lady who marries into the Gim family cannot leave it,” he said. Not even the patriarch of the family could intimidate me at this point. I had made my choice. I had made my bed and was going to lie in it._

_The white, fluttery summer dress I had put on for this confrontation was what I needed myself to be._

_I have to be flexible and unyielding, light and unbothered, singed like polished steel. Surely he did not take me for a fool, to come unprepared? I smiled slightly, kneading my glossed lips together to look demure. I saw his eyes latch onto the movement. I was dealing with a repulsive, weak old man._

_“I believe that Eunsung’s ex-lover has been seeking leverage from this family, so that her illegitimate child can take a share of the fortune once you die, as the eldest child of the eldest son,” I said. “I am aware of his illegal dealings, and I believe the circles I affiliate with would like to hear of it. You know they would revel in the deamination of the most well-to-do families in the country.”_

_I smiled into my tea as I heard his own clatter against the table. He looked as if a possession of great significance had been stolen right under his nose. “Are you threatening me, wife of Jinki Gim?” The lines in his forehead had become more pronounced._

_“Yes. But it’s simple, really,” I said casually, twirling my dark locks with a finger. “Jinki has agreed to the divorce. He wishes to marry his lover. You ought to meet her. I’ll admit, she is not as beautiful as I, but she cares for him greatly. I could see no better wife for him. They would make each other very happy, and she would be able to bear the children he desires.” I knew that was a strong selling point. I had never been able to bear Jinki any sons or daughters, a fact that all the members of the family had scorned._

_He looked doubtful. I would be too. “Is that all? You wish to divorce him?”_

_I nodded. “I want to leave this family permanently, and you will buy my silence. I will leave quietly. I am of no value to your household aside from chores. Let me be free.”_

He jolted awake, head halfway submerged in the cold water. He had been dreaming again, dammit. So much for a bath.

He ran his fingers along his head.

Huh? He did it again. Was there something growing _on_ him?

It was a pointy thing, a prickle on his fingertip. Then, there was another one on the other side of his head. It couldn’t have been bigger than the size of his thumb. 

Stark naked, he got up, suds still trickling down his body, he combed his hair through the centre, watching it fan outwards as he let go. Two horns, cone-shaped, purple and white spiral, safely hidden in his head of hair. He might have not seen it, but by the way they were positioned on his head, he was bound to find it eventually. 

_Had it sprouted when he was dreaming?_

“Shit,” mumbled Jeno, scrubbing at his face. Worry does murder sleep indeed. 

__

**[me] I woke up in the bathtub with horns on my head**

**[nana] CRAP**

**[injun] Well crap indeed**

**[me] this is becoming more and more real by the moment**

**[me] listen its just like uh**

**[me] could you guys arrange something??**

**[me] im getting desperate at this point**

**[nana] ofc just say it**

**[me] you know maybe we could like dare pumpkin to confess his undying love for me haha**

**[injun] Right**

**[injun] Would that work?**

**[nana] anything is worth a shot at this point**

**[injun] I’ll see what I can do, then I’ll get back to you**

**[injun] I promise**


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> till I see you, clear as scent, under the tree,  
> with its lights, and whose small bites on your neck, sweetheart?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Maybe the reason why norenmin have so many sleepovers is because I've never had one before and I'm just projecting...

Jeno was reminded of his and Jaemin’s initial reaction to Renjun’s new home as he watched Chenle gape at the handsome looking house, outstanding amidst the humble neighbourhood.

“How’d you manage to buy such a big place?”

It felt odd to have an extra person in their sleepovers. It was always just the three of them. 

Yet, Jeno thought, as he gazed upwards to see Chenle clamber up the staircase, he looked like he belonged here. He must have been looking too long, so Jaemin elbowed him in the ribs, whispering, “Stop being a besotted puppy,” and scuttling away before Jeno could land a hit back. 

“Well,” said Renjun thoughtfully. He was dressed down in tartan fleece sweatpants and an oversized sweater with the Hogwarts crest on it. He had gotten matching sweaters for Jeno and Jaemin, but the material was uncomfortable with all the extra hair, so he wasn’t wearing it today. “Mama did get this quite cheap, but it was only because nobody wanted it—”

“—I think the rumour that this house was haunted was more on the plus side here for our dear Injun, here,” Jaemin said, winking a slimy wink at Renjun. The Chinese boy raised his fist threateningly from where he was standing.

Almost imperceptibly, Chenle’s eyes widened the slightest bit. Then he froze again, blinked owlishly and said, “Right. That’s interesting, isn’t it?” Hastily he turned to enter Renjun’s room.

That was strange. 

“Come on, hurry up. We still have our main event.” He was jostled to follow them, still wondering what on earth Chenle was flustered about. 

Renjun had brought out his trusty computer again, he was in one of those moods again (the one where he wanted to watch as many of the Harry Potter movies as he could in one go while Jeno and Jaemin snored away in a corner.) Jeno ached to sprawl out across the bean bag, but Chenle was here… 

“Let’s watch Order of the Phoenix!”

“ _No!_ ”

“Can’t we watch something exciting?” Jaemin pleaded. His entire body was shifted away from Chenle. Jeno was starting to think that was on purpose. 

Renjun jeered at him. “Order of the Phoenix is the most exciting movie, you simply have no taste.” 

“I think what he means is that we’ve watched it with you so many times we know exactly what’s going to happen,” said Jeno, before his friends started bantering. With a guest at their sleepover, no less!

Eventually, they settled on a zombie movie. As the movie started to play, he stealthily snuck next to Renjun. They had turned off all the lights, so they weren’t noticed by the rest of their friends, who were sitting by themselves. 

“Psst, hey! Jun. Jun. Stop ignoring me.”

“What?” 

“Could you guys like not…? You keep acting as if Pumpkin isn’t here at all…”

Renjun’s lips thinned. “Don’t you think acting differently around him will make him suspicious?” There was a hard glint in his eyes. “Listen, I have to tell you something.” 

There was a noisy shuffle of movement when Jeno grabbed and pulled him out of the room. They couldn’t stay inside, just in case Chenle would hear. “Sorry,” he clumsily leapt over Jaemin’s foot on the floor, “I’ll go cook a snack, or get a snack, or maybe pasta!”

“I want pasta!” He heard Jaemin call after him. 

Renjun’s dad was in the living room, smiling at the sight of them slipping into the kitchen. Jeno waved awkwardly. He decided to oblige Jaemin, digging through the refrigerator to see what they had. Then he realised what he had just done. 

“Oh my God, what was I thinking of leaving Chenle alone with Jaemin? Jaem thinks he’s homophobic—” 

“Homophobic?”

He filled two pots with hot water, tossing pasta in one and eggs in another, clambering up to take a seat next to Renjun on the kitchen counter. “It’s a long story. So, what did you want to tell me?”

“About the plan… could we not?” Renjun asked tentatively. “I’m sorry, it’s my fault for not saying anything about this although I’ve had my doubts,” he glanced out of the window, where there was a little girl outside, getting chased by a larger boy, laughing and screaming, “I don’t really like how we’ve been treating pum— _Chenle_ like a silly project.”

A part of Jeno turned cold. He understood where his friend was coming from— both of them were like this in a sense, they always held back on telling each other things, because they were the type to brew and brood— they never held this against one another, which worried him. Had he crossed a line he shouldn’t have, and he hadn’t known?

“What do you mean?” 

“We haven’t really been considering how he might feel. I’ve got to be honest with you, I think he likes someone… and he hasn’t confirmed it yet, but because of it, I don’t think he’s in the best place right now. You know that I probably know what kind of person he likes, because I’m his friend, and honestly, I’ve been really anxious about you asking me for advice… Chenle’s my friend too, so I’d know this, but I don’t think it’ll be doing me any favours if you ask me to tell you what I know just to get together with him.” 

What was Renjun trying to say? Jeno furrowed his brows, confused. Renjun let out a deep sigh as if simply talking was painful. “Let’s not dare him to confess his love for you, okay? Even as a joke. I don’t want him to be reminded of anything he doesn’t want to be reminded of.” 

“Of course,” Jeno said quickly, “I don’t want to make him uncomfortable, but that kind of defeats the purpose of today, doesn’t it?” He would be lying if he said that he wasn’t disappointed. It would be nice if he had a clue at least if he had a chance. It felt like the blind was leading the blind. 

The food ought to be ready by now, so Jeno got up to fish the pasta out of the water. He busied himself, letting his hands do the work. Being vulnerable was never fun, or at least that was what the two of them thought. 

“Alright.” Renjun helped him pick up the bowl of hard-boiled eggs. “I think I have an idea.” 

“I didn’t think you could be so… soft.”

“Okay, that’s it, you have to shut up.”

Thankfully, when they returned to the room, Jaemin and Chenle seemed riveted by the film. They were the silent types, it appeared. The rest of it went on without a hitch, Jeno glancing to the clock every few minutes or so.

The credits started rolling. 

“Whoa. There’s a sequel to this, right?” asked Chenle. 

“Give me your computer.” Jaemin scrambled to his feet, animosity with the younger boy forgotten. “I need to know what happened to her, did she die, why did her husband’s father shove her off the brick wall, or did she get eaten, did the zombie eat both her and her baby, or…” 

Dignified, Renjun snatched the laptop away, stuffing it under his bed. “That’s enough movies for now, why don’t we play something fun, like a game?”

Jaemin had lifted a hand in protest, then he caught on. He shut his mouth, a comical sight. Jeno had to stifle a snigger.

“Truth or Dare?” he suggested, not suspiciously at all. 

“Really? It’s so basic though,” Chenle said, but he didn’t reject the suggestion. 

Chenle kept moving. He was always fidgeting some way or another. First, it had been him drumming his fingers against the carpet, then he was wiggling his toes. Then he was nibbling at his fingernails. 

Jeno noticed these things. When you like someone you turn into a more hyperaware version of yourself. It was very bothersome. 

The room had appeared to shrink into itself as they hadn’t bothered to leave the lights on. It had to be past midnight already by how dark it was. He tossed a thick quilt over to a shivering Jaemin, who was sitting by the window. Only the nightlight had been left to the side, close enough to gently illuminate Chenle’s pale face. He had to keep reminding himself to stop staring. 

“The oldest should start first,” said Jaemin. He was sure they hadn’t played this game before, funnily enough. Knowing Jaemin, he would come up with a couple of entertaining dares in a short while. 

The original plan was to muck around for a couple of rounds, nothing consequential. Afterwards, if Chenle chose dare, they would have dared him to profess his (imaginary?) love for Jeno. Straightforward and simple. Right now Jeno wanted to take his mind off things, to laugh until he could laugh no more. None of them wanted the game to end too quickly, so they were going through more truths at the start.

“Alright, Na!” Renjun took the pillow he had been lying on and placed it on his lap. “Truth or dare!”

“Dare!”

“I knew you’d say that!” He pointed at Jaemin, triumphant, all this while grinning languidly. “Do one hundred squats!”

The questions got more and more ridiculous as time went on, with Jeno asking Renjun ‘who’s the sloppiest person you’ve ever met?’ and ‘tell us the last time you vomited and why,’ he managed to wrangle some hilarious details his friends had managed to omit from their lives, and they returned the favour. It wasn’t a big deal. It was never a big deal, whenever they were around. He knew they wouldn’t judge him. He nearly forgot Chenle was there, a boy whose opinion he cared lots about.

Then came a barrage of dares. Jeno ate a three-week old sauce Renjun had left under his bed from a packet. Chenle had to speak in Chinese for the next few rounds, so Renjun was reduced to a translator, much to his annoyance. Jaemin had to hold a handstand for five minutes. None of them carried out any dares that made them leave the room, though. They didn’t want any of Renjun’s family to wake up. 

“It’s getting late,” said Jeno. Jaemin unceremoniously fell onto the floor with a thwump from his handstand. “Should we have a final round and then head to bed?”

“Noooo, I wanna stay up all night,” whined Jaemin. “Is it possible to be drunk on sleeplessness alone?”

“If that was the case, I’ll be drunk out of my mind half the time,” Jeno shot back. 

Chenle was smiling one of his silly patronising smiles, so Jeno bet that he would have stayed up the whole night if Jaemin had asked. He was overly kind to his friends. He would do that.

“If you’re going to stay up, you can do it alone. Anyway. Truth or dare, Chenle?” Even while sleep-mussed, Renjun remembered what he had promised. Jeno ground his teeth together, uncertain how exactly this was going to play out. 

“Dare, I guess. To keep it exciting.”

“Alright. I dare you to kiss whoever you find the most attractive in this room on the cheek,” said Renjun. 

Okay, that wasn’t a bad question. It wasn’t particularly invasive and could be laughed off in good fun, but it didn’t feel much like a try. Jeno could feel himself deflate. He tried not to let his disappointment show too much, propping his head with one hand over his face. 

Well, how else was Renjun supposed to phrase it? Surely, he would have kissed Jaemin, objectively, he was the most attractive. The school population could attest to that. It only made sense. 

If Jaemin was bothered by this change of plans, he didn’t give it away. 

At least flustered Chenle was like candy for the eyes. Under the slight light of the moon, it brightened his face gently, showing off a slight pink flush dusted across his cheekbones like a fine powder. It wasn’t incriminating, almost harmless... this question, unless it _was….?_

Jeno swallowed, feeling a lump in his throat. 

“Alright,” said Chenle nervously. He crawled forward on his knees. Was he—

A feather-light dust of lips across his cheek, and it was done. 

If Jeno had the ability to set himself on fire, _the entire house would be in flames._

Jaemin and Renjun hooted loudly. Immediately Chenle lay back on his futon. “I’m knackered,” he announced, expression staunch. 

Obviously, he would want this to end. It was getting late, after all. Jeno could still feel his cheek burning where Chenle had kissed it. If the butterflies he had felt in his stomach were dormant, now they were renewed in energy, falling all over each other like dead pigeons. 

There was a chorus of good-nights, then they fell quiet. 

Jeno knew he wasn’t going to catch a wink of sleep tonight. He wiggled his hips a little to kick his blanket off his toes, feeling sweaty. He rolled up his sleeves, placing his hands over his stomach. His gaze wandered towards Chenle’s black bag where all their things were stuffed in a corner. 

It was Chenle’s bag. Balanced precariously on top of it was his wallet with that familiar jade keychain hanging off it. Jeno smiled at it, remembering how he had held onto it when he had confronted Dad. It had been on his bag zipper, last time. 

Maybe— maybe, Jeno had a chance. Chenle thought he was attractive. Even more than Jaemin. It wasn’t like he was going to get up and ask him out right now, but still… it was heartening to know, bolstered his confidence even… whatever Renjun had said about treating this like a project, it definitely didn’t feel like one.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Did you catch that?_


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yet I feel my heart is aching  
> Though it doesn't beat it's breaking

“Get up!”

Yerim was yanking at his feet. Jeno let out a muffled shriek, refusing to leave his bed. “No!”

“You promised to go inline skating with me!” she cried. “I made your favourite noodles for breakfast! You can have it if you get up!”

And that was how Jeno ended up in roller blades at ten 'o'clock in the morning. Alright, it wasn’t that bad of an idea, really, he hadn’t slept a wink since two nights ago, he couldn’t stop thinking… it would be a good distraction. 

But Jeno was distracted anyway, startled out of his reverie when a rush of wind swept by him.

Yerim, that absolute weirdo, was in a _skirt_ , tearing down the pavement as if she was flying on wheels. She was so good at it she didn’t even consider the possibility that she might fall over and get bruises all over her stupid, knobbly knees. 

“Hey!” said Jeno as she continued to surge ahead. “Can’t you slow down!” 

They had come all the way to the park, a little ways ahead from where they lived. He got most of his exercise done at home or in school, away from the sun. 

Much to his annoyance, Yerim continued to skate circles around him. “How are you so good at this?” Last he checked, their ability on roller blades were relatively the same. “You’re off at university, shouldn’t you have less time for your silly hobbies?”

“Nothing is impossible if you’re determined enough,” said Yerim. “Speaking of which, don’t be too pessimistic! Your body may be here, but your spirit isn’t.” Jeno knew the embarrassment was showing on his face. “I think you could try asking that boy out, even if you’re a little inexperienced. You’ll never know until you try.”

He frowned, narrowly dodging a small pile of pebbles on the pavement. He would have seen that from a mile away if he had been paying attention. “Alright. To be honest, I’d say I might have a chance. I don’t want to be overconfident, though.” He smiled, and Yerim smiled back. 

Although he had sunk her into a bad mood after telling her about the curse, surprisingly enough, the aftereffects weren't that bad. It was nice to sit in his room in a tank top, without much care for who walked in since his siblings already knew about the condition. It didn’t feel as daunting anymore.

“Really? I’m glad to hear that. You sound so cheery.” She scooted a little closer to him, bumping her shoulder against his good-naturedly. “You’re a nice boy, Jen. Have more pride in yourself, alright?”

It was nice after a while. It was relatively peaceful in the morning, the fresh scent with the embittered aftertaste of dew hanging in the air. Nobody else was in their path, Yerim could skate recklessly, while Jeno didn’t have to watch where he was going. Plus when he fell over on his bum, there would be no eyes here to witness it. 

It had been an hour and a half or so when Jeno’s stomach started growling. He became hungry easily whenever he exercised. He hadn’t exactly eaten a hearty breakfast, only a small portion. Thinking too much ate at his appetite. Ramyeon was nice… at this time of day, though? Yerim was going to look at him weird.

“I’m hungry,” he said after mulling over it for a second. Yerim snorted. 

“Do you never stop eating? There’s a convenience store nearby. Just give us a few more minutes.”

It seemed like ramyeon in the morning was a good idea after all. A fuller stomach cleared his mind a little. Satisfied, he patted his stomach as he left the store, bells tinkling behind him. 

The store had a couple of marble stools nearby on the pavement, sloped towards the floor. Yerim was darting from one seat to another on her wheels, pulling off another daring feat. She stopped once she caught sight of him. 

He wasn’t putting his energy into skating, though, keeping his eyes away from the floor. A short distance ahead, there was a store that rented out bicycles and roller blades. Only a few people were there, not on rented bicycles, but roller blades, wobbling dangerously as they skated out onto the main path. He would feel bad if he wasn’t worrying so badly over himself. 

“Do you enjoy watching people struggle, Yerim?” Jeno asked, joining her. He couldn’t have done it with the same ease an hour ago, when he was just starting to thaw the shakiness from a month of no practice, guided by stray thoughts instead of athleticism. 

She shook her head. Jeno went ahead. There was the familiar flash of blue highlights amidst silky black hair, among new skaters, watching him with barely hidden envy as he slid out onto the path with ease. Had he seen someone familiar? 

His question was answered when Soso, his schoolmate, skated out in casual clothing, trying to balance her arms out. 

“Soso?” 

“Jeno!” Her enthusiastic response sent one of her feet spiralling, dangerously swaying to the side. She tripped. Jeno quickly rushed forward, catching her by the arm and hauling her back up. 

“Whoa there!” She was standing, her hand a vice grip on his shoulder, then letting go. It only took a minute before her knees were shaking like a newborn foal’s again. “Soso, calm down. Your feet need to be shoulder width apart.” She obeyed immediately, regaining her straight posture. 

“Hm, nice arms,” she said, loosening her grip on him and patting his arm appreciatively. She walked slowly in the skates still with an uncertain gait. It was nice to see her here. Suddenly, the drowsy haze that had been cloaking him was removed all at once. 

Yerim followed him, looking amused. “My schoolmate. We’re preparing for the Halloween dance together.” 

It was odd to see them without an instructor. Jeno and Yerim had learnt some time ago from Doyoung, who had learnt it from his ex-girlfriend, who helped her sister at her rental shop part-time. Who had offered to teach Soso?

A boy with a head full of blond hair caught up with her, also in skates. Jeno guided her forward carefully, offering an arm to her as they glided carefully together. 

“Hello!” Jeno flinched, surprised. What was Chenle doing here? He lived quite some time away. His traitorous heart did another dangerous flip, and tripped over another pebble, scrabbling to his feet before he landed on his knees. 

He looked resplendent in newly bleached locks.... another flip. So much for thinking with a clear head. 

Chenle whipped around. His eyes flickered to Jeno’s skates, then to his rollerblading gear. “What! You skate?”

He fenced, he played, he skated. Damn. What couldn’t he do? Suddenly Jeno was falling over himself again, back at the start when he was getting to know Chenle again, when he saw everything through rose-tinted glasses. Jeno was terribly off-put, awkwardly scratching at the back of his neck. 

“Jeno, are these your friends?” Yerim gave them a glance. She seemed much more grown up as compared to them by the way she carried herself, despite being significantly shorter. 

Jeno snapped out of his haze. At his terse nod, she continued. “I’ve been observing the both of you. Wasn’t your friend here teaching her? And now I see that he’s… not the most experienced on skates. That’s putting it lightly.” 

Chenle was sheepish. He self-consciously scratched at a cheek, stopping in his tracks to talk with Yerim. It was unsettling to see them talk to each other. It was as if Jeno’s worlds had collided. His family belonged at home, and his friends strictly belonged in school. He had never imagined them interacting like this.

"Aha. Well. It sounded like a nice idea at the time. I read a book about skating, and managed to figure some of it out. But we don’t know anyone to teach us, so…”

Both Yerim and Jeno shared a knowing look. He wondered if she could tell how he was feeling, but he couldn’t be sure, he couldn’t even put a name on the funny feeling he felt. Jaemin had told him once his eyes gave away all his feelings. 

“It would be more comfortable if I helped your female friend instead,” she said. “Since we’re girls. You understand, don’t you, boys?” 

“Alright,” said Jeno, throat dry, “come on, Chenle, we don’t want to stay here. We might bump into each other.”

Jeno guided Chenle over to the side, away from the girls. He had come down solely to accompany Yerim. He wasn’t planning to teach anyone today, and besides, would he even be a good teacher? Doyoung had taught him a couple of tricks, but he only remembered some of their names. Would his feelings influence his teaching? 

“Since you can sort of her glide around, let’s start with a simple trick,” said Jeno, trying his best to emulate a Miss Kim voice. Chenle caught on after a few beats, snickering. “It’s called a heel toe. So, with one foot slightly in front. You glide on your front toe.” The younger boy dutifully copied him. “Then, with your other foot, your back heel.”

Jeno slid backwards without turning around, continuing to gaze at Chenle. Chenle was amazed. “It’s really simple, but once you perfect it, it looks really cool, doesn’t it?” 

He wasn’t sure if he should have expected Chenle to take to it more easily than Jeno had. Despite his eagerness, Chenle was surprisingly adaptable in rollerblading. Although he struggled at first, once he got the hang of maintaining his balance, he managed to smooth out the initial hiccups that were present in his earlier tricks. 

The younger boy was acting as if the kiss had never happened. Maybe it didn’t mean much. “Hey,” he began weakly, “about the other day…” 

“Ugh, this one is taking me ages!” Chenle cried, glaring at his skates. Beadlets of sweat trickled down his forehead. 

Jeno scratched at his arm, finally reminded of the reason why he hated exercising outside. With the way the hairs were, they seemed to make him sweat more, then the sweat would make all the orange fur stick together. It was unbearable. At least in the privacy of his room he could wear a tank top, or take off his shirt, but outside he could do nothing. Oh, what he’d do to roll up his sleeves all the way. 

“I don’t think you should worry too much about that. You’re doing much better than how I did. Rollerblading can’t be learnt overnight, you know,” he said lightly. “You’re a fast learner?”

“If _I’m_ a fast learner, I wonder how long Soso would take,” Chenle mumbled, squatting down to wipe the sweat off his face with the bottom of his shirt. Jeno got a flash of fair toned stomach, hurriedly averting his eyes before he could see more of it. 

Did Chenle like someone else? It would be inconsiderate to try and get him to like Jeno. He wasn’t in the best place, Renjun said. 

It was now or never. “You thought I was the most attractive out of my friends?” He meant for it to sound joking, but it came out deadly serious. 

Their gazes met, before separating quickly. God, it hadn’t felt this… _awkward_ since they first met. This was just making things weird. 

“Ah,” Chenle said, adjusting his shirt collar, “well, ha, I’m just following my heart. Renjun’s… he’s Renjun, you know? And I don’t think Jaemin likes me much. The choice was obvious.” 

“It’s nothing.” When had this conversation become so stilted? What happened to the easy words would flow between them whenever they talked? “I was just, well, I thought you might choose Jaemin. He’s pretty good looking. Objectively.” 

He narrowed his eyes, all traces of hesitation gone. “Well, objectively, I think you’re the most—”

“Lele! Lele! See what I can do!” Soso was doing a simple trick Chenle had mastered earlier, smiling so wide it seemed to stretch her entire face, she slipped again, “ah, SHIT!” 

Chenle and Yerim went forward to catch her on each arm. 

The afternoon sun began to dawn on them. 

Dammit. He should get out of here. What was that conversation supposed to be… 

Soso had sat down to the side on a park bench to take a break. The two of them weren’t competent enough to run amok by themselves. If he wasn’t juggling the Halloween dance and rehearsals, Jeno would have jumped at the opportunity to teach them, and besides, since they were renting skates, this would probably be a one-off thing. 

“The hair from the curse makes me sweat a lot. I don’t think it’s just hormones but it’s unbearable out here,” said Jeno quietly into Yerim’s ear, pulling at the sleeves of his cashmere sweater for emphasis. “Could we go back?”

Her face took on that pensive, stony mull again. She was curious about what had happened with Chenle, he supposed. “Okay. We ought to say our goodbyes, I guess.”

Should he have told her Chenle’s role in the curse? He didn’t know how to feel about a meddling older sister. 

Yerim stood warily behind him, not so subtly combing a fine-toothed gaze over his clothes, as if she would be able see any of the hairs peeping out. The ritual Jeno underwent everyday to gel all of them in place was immaculate every time. 

“Yerim and I ought to get going,” said Jeno. Hopefully he appeared friendly. “By the way, I was wondering, what brings the two of you here? I didn’t even know you two were friends.” They were close enough to spend time together out of school, that was all. 

Soso was uneasy. She opened her mouth for a moment, then closed it, then stared pleadingly at Chenle. It was a funny sight, truthfully. She always seemed so sure of herself, so it was strange to see her turning to Chenle, someone who looked as if he didn’t have an unkind bone in his body, for approval. 

Chenle was shy, only dipping his head just a tiny fraction. However, something changed. 

She curled up one of her hands into a fist, a gesture Jeno knew she made whenever she was determined to tackle a matter head on. She twined her fingers with Chenle’s, holding their hands up together to face Jeno. 

“We’re on a date, Jeno… well, until it got hijacked, ha! But your presence would never be an unwelcome one.” She looked kindly at him with her doe eyes. “That’s what couples do, right?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> JENO I AM SO SORRY 
> 
> I was actually contemplating taking this scene out because it felt unnecessary, but I actually like it a lot, ha-ha... ha... ha...


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Relay this message to the proud me now  
> There’s no spell for love

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the  
> a f t e r m a t h

Jeno silently cursed himself for being so _obvious_ all the time. Renjun had waited for him this rehearsal, sitting to the side while sketching in a notebook. 

The whole session he had been unable to meet Chenle’s eyes without feeling overly gloomy. If he had noticed a change in Jeno’s attitude, he hadn’t commented on it. He had praised an improvement in Jeno’s performance, but otherwise, they didn’t rattle on with unnecessary chatter that they usually enjoyed. 

A few times during the two hours, Jeno felt his eyes stray, lured by the centerpiece in the dancing group. That was what they had called themselves. Soso, leading the rest of the girls, was a sight to behold with her unshakable confidence. He couldn’t classify the emotion he felt when he looked at her. 

Even worse, at the end of the session, the two of them had sat together. Soso had been focused on trying to braid Chenle’s hair, which was laughable, considering its short length. But it had been growing out, after all. 

She had glanced at him with barely concealed affection. With how he had been described to look at Chenle, Jeno stared at them for an inordinate amount of time. Had that same expression been once mirrored on his own face?

Him and Renjun had sauntered down the empty hallway, not exchanging a word. They regularly shared peaceful, amiable silences by themselves, an aspect he appreciated greatly about their relationship. 

But this quiet— no, it was not nice at all. It was extremely stifling. Surely, as Chenle’s friend, he would have at least an inkling of Chenle’s sexuality? Even speculation would have helped. Renjun wouldn’t have understood, being heterosexual! 

“I thought you liked Soso? I couldn’t help but notice you today… you kept staring at her weirdly. What’s wrong? The green-eyed monster rearing its ugly head?”

Jeno couldn’t help it. He found himself rigid with fury, even shaking from it. He could feel the hairs on his skin standing on end once again, the same reaction he had when he was fearful. It was razor sharp against the inside of his clothes. 

“You’d think that you would first ask for Chenle’s sexuality before you’d tried to set us up.”

His friend froze. 

“Before you explode,” Renjun said, tone flat, but it held no venom, “could you tell me why you’re suddenly swinging your temper all over the place?”

“Did you know Chenle has a girlfriend?”

“What?” He looked dumbfounded. Jeno didn’t give him an opportunity to speak. 

“I understand that he’s your friend too, but would it kill you to tell me whether he liked boys in the first place?”

“I— I didn’t even—” 

Jeno crushed a palm to his chest, ignoring him. “I thought Chenle and I had a _moment_? And now I realise, like, shit, I learn that maybe it was all in my imagination? I’m just going to end up a monster. Do you think I should make a bucket list?”

Renjun took Jeno’s shoulder roughly, spinning him around to face him. “Jeno! Calm down! Be reasonable, will you? The world isn’t falling apart! If I had known—”

“Our dear pumpkin has a girlfriend, can you believe it?” The ugly, spiteful sneer Jeno wore seemed to enrage Renjun, and he stepped back, a dark shadow cast across his face. He was just so frustrated. 

“He has a girlfriend, so there’s no point! He likes girls! This plan has been a bust from the start! I’m not breaking them up! I may as well accept my fate now, right?”

When had he started yelling? His eyes were starting to throb faintly. Furious at both himself and Renjun, he stalked down the rest of the way to the school gate, still swiping at his face and stormed out, not giving his friend a chance to answer, Renjun’s voice still shouting after him. 

He felt as if he ought to start crying, but when he had pressed a palm to his cheeks, they were dry as they had always been. 

__

He toyed with the pen he was holding. Today he chose to spend time in the library with Yeji, going through the chapter they had gone over in class. It was a welcome break from his siblings’ worrying and Jaemin nagging. 

If he had been told months ago that he would have sat with Yeji Hwang willingly, he would have declared it to be impossible. 

But here he was. The library meant no talking. No harassment. No pestering regarding his day to day business. 

While he was studying with Yeji, he had realised how little friends he had. Aside from Renjun and Jaemin, he had Chenle and Soso; the latter he didn’t get to know until he had joined the Halloween dance committee. For Chenle. Just by joining that, he had piled on a great ton of additional responsibilities onto what he already had. 

It had been to get closer to Chenle. Now, however— technically, his motivation to join the committee had been lost, he ought to drop out, really— but he had invested far too many hours, hard work, and planning into this, not just to give it up so easily. 

His actions had been dictated by the curse, sure, centred around a boy, out of all things, but still, he had people counting on him. People including Yeji and Miss Kim, who were not truly friends, more like acquaintances or co-workers… still people regardless.

The groan of a chair being pulled from its place. 

Yeji’s brother, Hyunjin, took a seat next to him. He was almost never in the library, Jeno reflected curiously. He wasn’t carrying any books with him. Leaning over impatiently, he whispered in a hush tone,“I have a message for you.”

Jeno continued scrawling. In order to find the compound interest, he wrote, he would need to substitute the time period with _x_ , then to work backwards he would need to… 

“Jaemin told me,” said Hyunjin, “to tell you, that he wants to see you outside. And to stop avoiding him.”

“Alright, so Na passed me his messenger owl?” asked Jeno dryly. 

Hyunjin looked down and away, a far cry from the boy who had enjoyed pushing his sister’s buttons. He glanced over to the clear, glass doors of the library, catching a glimpse of Jaemin’s pink hair. Nonplussed, Jeno peered at him. What would he be most upset about in this situation?

Time had passed by quickly. He had needed to leave soon, anyway, so he got up, gathering his things. “I’ll see you,” he said to Yeji. She nodded, then returned to her work. 

It was difficult whenever two of them were having a tiff within their friend group. It wasn’t as bad when either of them would disagree with Jaemin, because he could not hold a grudge. He would tolerate, at most, three days of silence before he stormed up to whoever he was bickering with and would force them to settle their disagreement then and there. 

But whenever Jeno and Renjun quarrelled… he hated confrontation, it made him feel folded inside out; while Renjun, if anything, disliked admitting he was wrong. So their rows would last weeks. It mostly included them turning the other way when they saw each other, unless Jaemin would stage an intervention. It was a sign of immaturity, sure, but they quarrelled occasionally and never truly had to deal with the root of it all: their clashing flaws. 

“Jeno.” He stuck his hands into his pockets when he met Jaemin’s eyes. He adopted defensive stance immediately, waiting for his best friend to state his case. Knowing him, he never beat around the bush. He often found their tactic of ignorance ridiculous and would not hesitate in telling Jeno his mind. 

“You ate with him during lunch, right? So I’m guessing that you’ve already talked to him,” he said, hugging books to his chest, using it as a barrier. “I’m all ears. What do you want to say to me?”

 _Was that pity in his eyes?_ Unabashed, Jeno gaped at him. “I heard what happened with Pumpkin. Are you okay?”

“I would have preferred you to have heard about what happened from me, actually,” said Jeno. The sting of the discovery on the weekend resurfaced, as painful as the day he left it. “It just sort of hurts, I guess. But I’ll be fine.”

“What hurts more?” asked Jaemin. “The fact that you’ll succumb to the curse? Or that he’ll never like you back?”

Jeno was floored, staring at him for a very long time, astonished. “I…” He hadn’t spared a thought of the curse since. Every anxious feeling he had felt about it had been so overwhelming, he had become numb to it. “Come _on._ ”

“Oh, Jen,” he said in a mournful voice. “You have it bad, don’t you?”

Jeno’s heart hurt. He wiped at his face, shoulders slumped. “This wasn’t meant to happen. I didn’t plan for me to, well, like him so much? It’s alright, honestly. The world isn’t ending, but, my life does rest on his shoulders, in a sense.”

Suddenly Jaemin’s warmth was comforting, pressed up to him, an arm around his waist guiding him back to his classroom. “Tell me about him,” he said. “Tell me everything I missed but you saw, the things that make you feel the way you do. I ought to tell you off, shouldn't I? But let's... talk a while, fan out the flames of your anger, or whatever." 

He missed this, somehow. Whenever Renjun or Jaemin liked someone, he always asked them about it, because he found it relaxing to vocalise your thoughts— in the past, he never let them have the opportunity to let them return the favour. And now, Jaemin was offering that to him. 

He leaned into him, letting Jaemin take the absence of a verbal reaponse as a yes. He had already made his bed: it would be a while before he would have to lie in it, so he might as well try to make it as comfortable as possible.

__

**[nana] is that really it? the end of it?**

**[injun] You’re feeling resigned?**

**[nana] i’m only feeling how he was feeling**

**[injun] Catch me up will you**

**[nana] he told me he’s like, madly in love with him**

**[nana] it wouldn’t be a big deal if he had a chance to actually get together with chenle yk**

**[injun] I feel like a dick**

**[nana] damn right you are**

**[nana] i’m not trying to say that you’re in the wrong strictly, jeno shouldn’t have lashed out at you.. that was totally unfair of him, and ive chewed his head off for it**

**[injun] But still i’m not the one who’s gonna turn into a, i quote, ‘an orange pom pom’**

**[nana] he has tiny purple horns now, did he tell you?**

**[injun] No**

**[injun] do you want to come to my house tomorrow? We can try talking to the ghost. Maybe there’s a loophole we could exploit**

**[nana] course i will, can’t let you do it alone now can i**

__

It was terribly blustery at this time of day, with gusts of wind brushing by them in torrid hisses.

"Speak to me," whispered Renjun, hunched over the board. "Please." 

Something was wrong. They had been sitting here for the past fifteen minutes, calling on the ghost, but to no avail. 

They brought an extra candle to see in the darkness, but nothing surfaced. Was she avoiding them? 

But if anyone would summon a ghost, it would be Renjun, by the sheer force of his determination. Nobody was as stubborn or as persistent as he was. He was a force to be reckoned with. He would stay here all night if that was what it took. 

It was strange, though. No matter how many times he called, they received no answer, only the wind answering their calls. 

Jaemin had the feeling they were missing something. This far into the curse, maybe Jeno wasn't the only one being affected... 

"Let me test a theory," he said firmly, only giving Renjun a moment to register what he said before getting up and closing the window. Then he blew out the candles, leaving them in absolute stillness and pitch-black. Silence. 

Finally, she came into shape. She was a literal shadow of her former self; last time she had challenged the bright light of the candle the first time they met. The ghost looked like a white outline cast against black, drawn haphazardly in chalk. 

Renjun’s hand was on his knee, gripping tightly. Her voice sounded more like a hushed whisper of a light breeze. Jaemin’s skin was crawling with shivers. 

“Why? Why did you curse Jeno for?” he demanded. She remained impassive. “His crush has a girlfriend! I don’t know what you did, to find out about his crush, but that was cruel of you. Why set him up for failure?” Jaemin knew he was making no sense, but the frustration he had harboured was finally rising up the surface, bubbling with a vengeance. 

“How would I know?” Underneath Jaemin's touch, Renjun was trembling like a leaf. Was he scared, or was he unsettled? A heartbeat later and only now that Jaemin realised what he’d just said and paled.

 _Oh crap._ The last person who’d use that tone on her, Jeno, had been hexed. He braced himself for another curse to come. 

“Do not fear, boy,” she said, eyes closed. “I have no more left in me to curse you another time. Can’t you see that I’m fading away? I can no longer be vengeful.”

Unable to see anything else, he felt Renjun still. By all means, he should be the one fizzling with anger. “So,” he said. “You turned my friend into a vessel to purify your own dirtied soul.”

“Yes.”

“You’re going to ruin my friend’s life!”

“Moral persuasion doesn’t work with me. Do remember that you are a mortal, and I am not. My self-preservation is there, at least, to benefit whatever’s left of me here. Please do not bother reasoning with me. Rather uncouth, I might say.” 

Then the window swung back open, kissing their faces with a vibrant, rich coldness; the bright lights of candles flickered into existence once more. They listened to the wind's persistent whistling. It sounded as if it was taunting them, with how much it sounded like the way the ghostly woman spoke. 

How he wished they had ended up using the ouija board! Speaking to a ghost was a perturbation of nature itself, surely, with that awful sinking feeling it left afterwards. 

They didn't end up staying awake until the sun rose. Both of them were so stricken, they curled around each other in their sleep, Jaemin falling into an uneasy slumber with his arms wound around Renjun, face tucked in the crook of his neck. When Renjun’s father found them in the morning, he had said that he didn’t expect them to be so touchy, with Renjun’s hand tracing the small of Jaemin’s back, almost as if they were too scared to let go, afraid to go home. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> MWAHHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAH!


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So please give me a chance to circumvent my fate  
> You know, you know

It had not been a good start to the day. 

Mom had bought a new saucepan, and the oil clumped together when Yerim was cooking, so the first egg she had cooked sucked all the oil up in the pan. She burnt the rest of the eggs, so Jeno ended up shoving a blackened breakfast into his mouth before rushing off to school. 

The bus was blessedly quiet. He watched the view outside, the rows after rows of short buildings. It wasn’t packed like a metropolis, but it wasn’t isolated like a small town either. 

The next stop had a gaggle of students clambering onto the bus. Suddenly, the place was full of lazy chatter. They were about to leave, but there was a boy running up to the bus stop, so the driver parted the doors for him. A minute later a sweaty, panting Renjun bumped into his side in the empty seat next to him. 

(Jeno’s eyes _might_ have popped out of his head.)

“What are you doing here? You don’t even take the bus!” _Besides, I expected another week or so before one of us would confront the other, it’s far too early, we never do this,_ he added in his head. 

“Well, I had to find a way to talk to you somehow, right? Jaemin and I talked to the ghost the other day—” From his bag he pulled out a tiny, worn notebook, skimming quickly through the pages for reference. His handwriting was messy as if he had written it in a mad rush. Had he taken _notes_ about this?

“Wait, it was a school day and you two had a sleepover?” Jeno said slowly. Had Renjun ever tried communicating with the ghost by himself? “I wasn’t informed of this. Um.... what did she say?”

“Of course we didn’t want to invite you. You were still upset, I didn’t want to impose on you. She said something about how she… ugh, shit, just read my stupid notes, thinking of her makes me have a headache,” Renjun said, shoving the book towards Jeno and rubbing at his temples.

**_said smth abt how she isn’t angry anymore (?) no clue what she is blabbing on abt  
appearance: faded, white, more like a couple of lines than a translucent human  
jaem pissed her off: didn’t get cursed tho, she said she had no more strength 4 that(?)  
conclusion: the curse was made through a part of her soul/part that involves vengeance  
but why would she want 2 do that? looks like a negative effect  
still have no clue how to get this curse thing away: kind of wish we had a love potion or smth_ **

“There is no way out of this after all. I thought I had accepted it, but…” Jeno closed his eyes, resigned. “I was kind of hoping I could get out of this unscathed.”

“Maybe you still have a chance. He did think you were the most attractive out of the three of us,” Renjun murmured. “For what it’s worth, I’m sorry. I knew you were already troubled— I shouldn’t have been so insistent.”

A warm rush of affection coursed through Jeno at his friend’s sincerity. “It’s fine. I’m sorry too. I shouldn’t have blown up on you like that. And you can be straight and still find someone of the same gender attractive, you know? Sexuality is fluid, of course, but I shouldn’t have been so sure of myself.”

“Please, Jeno, you’re anything but sure of yourself. I can’t ask you to stop worrying, but hey, it’s a work in progress,” said Renjun, knocking his foot against his. 

Jeno mustered a smile. “Okay.” 

The rest of the ride was pleasant. Jeno wished that they didn’t take so long to make up all the time, because it was nice to resolve issues quickly. Maybe even as a monster he’d be able to keep his mind with him. It would be nice to have an opportunity not to repeat the same mistake.

__

They needed a new plan, Jaemin had said. The spreadsheet of the _‘seduce Chenle plan’_ was entirely scrapped. How would they even begin when there weren’t any loopholes in the curse? Renjun mentioned he had considered contacting an exorcist, but Jeno wasn’t sure that would work. 

Technically, Jeno had a part of her soul _in his body._ Exorcists would only expel evil spirits. He wasn’t being possessed, though, like the stories in religious texts, when the spirits spoke through those being exorcised. It had only caused unwanted growths so far. He supposed he’d need a different kind of intervention.

There were also his dream-riddled nights, possibly unrelated, but it was a sudden occurrence: it must have had something to do with the curse. 

Ever since he had been cursed, he had been having bouts of sleep where he dreamed something most unusual; the dreams were far apart and very few, too. 

He would never remember what he had dreamed about exactly; rather, he was left with this most uncomfortable soreness in his joints and limbs as if he had slept on the wrong side. That was the only indicator he had. 

He could only recall bits and pieces.. Once he had woken up crying, repeating ‘ _for myself, for myself, I want to live for myself_ ’ repeating in his mind like a mantra. The first time he had dreamt, he woke up thinking about weddings, in-laws, and Tiffany. Who was Tiffany? It was, decidedly, an English name. He didn’t know any Tiffanys. 

Renjun had predicted this with his tarot cards, hadn’t he? There must have been some degree of accuracy, at least. 

He wanted to know what exactly was on the rest of the cards. The reading couldn’t be completely accurate, of course, since some cards were drawn solely by chance, but he wanted to give it another try nonetheless. 

Perhaps, it was time to employ a professional. 

__

On his balcony, Jeno had installed this small cylindrical thing made of a coppery material. Renjun had instructed him to use it to burn incense. 

He had only ended up using it twice because the smell of burning made him cough. It was September, so Renjun stated he wouldn’t look too out of place since it was the Hungry Ghost Festival. Both of them had their reservations about whether it would be effective. 

It was used to appease ghosts. Jeno wasn’t sure if it would work if the ghosts were _inside_ him, but it didn’t hurt to try. 

Jeno pushed his cheek into his pillow, sighing deeply. He had woken up feeling particularly feverish, so he had remained in bed although he didn’t feel ill — there was no runny nose, no itch in his throat.

It could have been that he simply wanted a day off school. He took a video of himself taking his temperature and sent it to his form teacher. That way, he wouldn’t have to go get a doctor’s note.

At 10 am he woke up again. Doyoung was in his room.

Jeno sat up, eyebrows raised. “Huh?” The fever pad he had stuck onto his forehead was falling onto his nose. “You don’t even live here… is this some sort of delirium?”

“No,” his brother said ruefully. “Yerim messaged me, and I only had a 7 am class today. There’s a bowl of porridge I made for you on the table.” 

Doyoung chucked a hoodie in his direction. “Get dressed, will you? I’m taking you somewhere today.”

Off they went. 

“What if someone who knows me sees me outside when I’m supposed to be at school?” Jeno kept poking Doyoung’s sides during the train ride. When the train stopped abruptly, the rest of the carriages shuddered in its aftershocks, Jeno did too. 

“Stop asking questions.”

“What do you mean I should stop asking questions? I’m the one you’re dragging along, you ought to tell me at the very least,” said Jeno, sauntering out of the station, following the heels of the crowd, Doyoung guiding him from behind, as if he was afraid of losing Jeno among the sea of people. 

“You’re being irresponsible,” said Jeno as Doyoung lugged him onto the street, past the housewives and the elderly milling around the stores to a decrepit looking underground mall. He had used the _i-word_ , the one that Doyoung resented most, because being irresponsible was his worst fear, albeit to no avail. “You’re kidnapping me.”

Finally, when they had entered a tiny lift that stank like cigarette smoke, his brother let go of him. “I’m bringing you to a friend of mine. A fortune teller.” At Jeno’s wide-eyed expression, he continued rambling. “You told me that your friend did a tarot card reading for you, right? So I’m bringing you to a professional.” His features were pinched together as if clutched by a peg. 

It was one of those buildings where aspiring businesses rented out tiny spaces, behind gray, windowless walls, a shared public bathroom down by the corridor for ten units every floor, too run-down to afford an office by themselves. 

It was eerie, the sound of a single droplet clattering against a metal bucket from a leak in the ceiling, tap, tap, tapping, one at a time. Jeno, with his fair share of damp, unpleasant places, wanted to leave. No wonder Doyoung hadn’t told him anything. 

It was a strange place for a fortune teller to run their business. After passing through a set of grey doors, there was a tiny hallway, wallpapered with cheap beige plaster. There were even more rooms inside. 

At the end of the corridor, there was a lithe man in a bathrobe, leaning out of a sizeable square opening where glass should be, fanning out to a bird’s eye view of the street, a cigarette lightly pressed to his lips and a puff of hazy smoke rising out into the air. 

Doyoung appeared to have recognised him. “Ten,” he called. Jeno wondered if that was his name. 

Turning around, Ten stared blankly at Doyoung before his eyes fell on Jeno. He promptly stamped his cigarette against the side of the frame and chucked it outside. Jeno pitied whoever would have to deal with those cancerogenic flakes descending from above. 

Ten possessed none of the characteristics Jeno had imagined a fortune teller to have: no bandana wrapped around his forehead, no sparkly golden bangles. None of those whatsoever. In fact, it was as if he had just got up. 

Incredulous, Ten tilted his head slightly in a chiding disapproval. “It’s far too early for this. But I have to make an exception for you, Doyoung. Come in, will you?” He had a lilt, a foreign accent to his words. Jeno easily recognised him as being from Thailand. 

All the lights in the room were on. It couldn’t have been larger than their kitchen at home. There was a desk with a cheap royal purple table mat pulled over it, a hazy crystal ball with his distorted reflection glaring mockingly back at him. Feeling dizzy, he took a seat on one of the black stools, Doyoung next to him. 

Ten squared him up, sweeping a glance over him quickly. He twisted a plastic fork in his takeout container and chewed thoughtfully on his fried noodles. Jeno fidgeted in his seat. “You’re an odd one, aren’t you, Jeno?”

“How do you know my name?” Had Ten read his mind or something? Or had he used some kind of supernatural means to learn it? Jeno had talked to a ghost. He was sure anything was possible at this point.

Snorting exasperatedly, Ten regarded him with poorly concealed amusement. “Your brother told me before he asked me for a favour.” He looked at Doyoung pointedly. “As I was saying… you don’t feel very cohesive. A part of it feels like it’s supposed to be dormant, but it seems that it's integrating with the rest of you.”

He gazed back blankly. “Could you summarise it in terms for stupid people to understand, please?”

A series of frustrated hand gestures and a gentle rebuke from Doyoung later— _‘Jeno, you are, in fact, an intelligent boy! No self-depreciation so early in the day!’_ — Jeno managed to learn this: through whatever special sensing ability Ten had, Ten sensed that a foreign entity was _within_ him and mixing with him. The phrasing was crude, but that explanation made the most sense to him. 

And somehow, it wasn’t much of an explanation at all. 

“Is this a cause for concern?” Doyoung asked. 

“No, not really, it’s just… not normal. I’ve never met someone like Jeno, so I can’t really help you with that. Why don’t we move on to my area of expertise?” 

Ten had laid out his own stack of tarot cards. “Since you’re not here for a proper reading, I’ll keep this quick.” Unlike Renjun, he didn’t bother laying out a map. He must have done it enough times, to know which card went where and what it meant. “Every reading, I ask my clients for a matter they would like to gain insight on.” 

“Uh,” said Jeno, peering at Ten’s deft fingers dancing across the cards like graceful choreography. “Um. Anything to look out for in my near future?”

Although he was certain that Ten would ask him to rephrase his question, he carried out the reading without a hitch. A couple of minutes or so later, he flipped over the cards two by two. Jeno could see the cogs whirring and turning in his head.

When he was finished, he said, “I don’t have much to tell you, actually. I’ll read what’s relevant for you— basically, whatever hardship you’re experiencing now, return to what has made you stumble. I’m feeling metaphorical today, so… to find the way out of your storm, seek the one who struck you.”

__

Doyoung only wanted the best for him, that Jeno knew. Something about this whole tarot reading matter was meant to be enlightening, but he had walked away with even more questions than he had answers. Ten had confirmed Renjun’s suspicions of the ghost’s soul joining with his, in what she had transmitted through the curse as a funnel. 

They got medicine to reduce his fever when they passed by the pharmacy. Jeno had been tucked back into bed by a doting Doyoung, an occurrence he hadn’t seen since Chenle. His brother had soaked a cloth in cold water for him, fondly stroking his head of hair after Jeno had taken his medicine and told him to sleep it off. 

When he had woken up a little past lunchtime, he felt as warm as he had when he had got up in the morning. 

He still didn’t feel ill, but realistically, he should have been dying from his abnormally high body temperature. Jeno kept his thermometer tucked under his pillow for hourly checks, but he didn’t cool in the slightest. 

Inexplicably, he had known that this increased heat would be his new reality. Another stage of the curse. It would be here to stay unless Chenle had anything to say about it. 

__

_”Do you work in this store?”_

_“I own it, actually—”_

_“What’s a pretty lady like you running a place like this?”_

_Oh, maybe she was charmed. Just the tiniest, tiniest bit. The furthest she had gone with a boy who wasn’t her ex-husband was a kiss on the cheek, that was all._

_“This may seem abrupt, but you appear to be a woman who enjoys a cup of coffee. There’s this place, down the street. Would you like to sit and chat sometime?”_

_She tried her best to look flattered. The man had a lovely smile. One date wouldn’t hurt._

__

As Jeno walked around school, he could feel himself humming unconsciously. He noticed it when Renjun got annoyed with him during lunch and told him to ‘quit the singing.’ He couldn’t help it, though — he had completely abandoned the usual few songs he cycled through to listen to the two songs Chenle had given him. 

Classes had ended, so he had gone to the canteen. 

Strumming the strings of his guitar, he counted the beats under his breath. It was a colder day today. He was reminded of the evening he had stayed behind, too scared to go home to confront his father, to tell him the truth. Chenle had played a game of basketball with him. 

His playing faltered. 

Seek the one who struck you?

Seek the ghost? She had been fruitless, though… he lost his balance, dropping his guitar pick onto the floor. 

“I got it!”

He looked up. There was Chenle in his PE uniform, waiting for Fencing Club to commence, probably. He passed the pick back to Jeno, who accepted it wordlessly. The younger boy was visibly pleased, smiling at him with all his teeth. “You’ve been working hard.” 

Jeno wondered if Chenle had spared a single thought thinking about that kiss… or did he have Soso kiss those memories away? 

_Hello, the boy who has my life in his hands. Did you know that if you don’t confess your love to me by Halloween Eve you’ll be condemning me to a life of suffering? No pressure. If you want me to rot away before I even turn eighteen, you could. Really! Honestly!_

If he told him, would Chenle laugh at him first, or would he gawk at him? Would he be called stupid, crazy, or simply out of his mind? Chenle wouldn’t say such things… but the expanse of Jeno’s imagination was a horrible place… 

Jeno didn’t say anything, dipping his head and hoping that would be enough. Chenle, with a mere nod, seemed to understand without speaking. It was as if he could read people’s minds. Like that time when Chenle had gone down the boiler room to find the technician with his ear cut off, what the hell was that? 

_Huh._ Odd, now that he actually stopped to think about it. 

“Will you be staying long?” asked Chenle, clearly in a good mood. 

“Until five. I was feeling restless today,” Jeno said insincerely, silently hoping Chenle would leave him alone. He was already in a particularly cynical state of mind, so it would do no good to remain in his presence. Jeno wanted to put up a courteous front with Chenle for as long as he could. 

_Hey, Chenle, listen, I’m in love with you, haha, but like, you’re ruining my life just by existing._

If only Chenle would have read his mind then. He definitely did not, though, because he continued to speak, “There’s a grand piano in the hall. Do you wanna go have a quick practice run? Club doesn’t start till 4.”

Thirty minutes. Jeno exhaled deeply, plastering a calm expression onto his face and getting up. Chenle skipped up the stairs. In normal circumstances, Jeno would have found it endearing, but he was skipping while Jeno’s life was _going downhill._

(And he was probably going through the five stages of grief, except that his process had started with anger. He was more than sensible to have a denial stage. Jeno could recognise when things were bound to go a downward trajectory.)

“Ah,” said Chenle wisely. “I think both of us know our parts for Red Bean, it’s just that your timing is off. You can count under your breath, like a one, two, three, before the performance. If I scarcely breathe, the microphone will pick it up.”

He did have a remarkable voice. It wasn’t strong, per say, tinged with a higher pitched immaturity that hadn’t been shed completely, but he could definitely hold a tune. They managed to somewhat stumble through their rehearsal for the song. ‘For Time For The Moon Night’, though, Jeno couldn’t pretend he knew. He had been so focused on the first song that he had forgotten about the second one. 

Chenle’s lips had started twitching halfway in. Jeno knew he was bound to snap at him. It would be no good for him to bicker with Chenle. 

“You should go. Club starts in fifteen minutes, right?” said Jeno and quickly whisked him away in that hovering manner, how he would be like with juniors in his own club. 

Thankfully, Chenle didn’t manage to get a word in before Jeno was already returning to the canteen. “I’ll see you for the formal rehearsal with Soso tomorrow!” 

Jeno wasn’t looking forward to the rehearsals. Not at all. Chenle and Soso would be there, together. Their romance was under wraps, they said. He might explode if they decided to act like a couple in front of him… God, he didn’t want to think about it.

He _was_ feeling restless. He slipped the guitar into its case, thinking of the basketball court behind the school. There was that creepy stairwell he used to pass by all the time, it had been a normal stairwell since... well, forever, until that one day when he wanted all his problems to go away, then it was like he was a stairwell too— little feet clambering all over him like a crawling spider.

He wandered down there again, cautiously leaning against the dusty wall, just in case his legs would give up on him, Jeno standing there like a sitting duck, the idiot protagonist of some crude slasher flick, where the victim would return to the place of no return because they felt like it and got horribly murdered.

A little dizzy, he sat down on a step. 

You’re just a small boy sitting on his mother’s knee, a part of his consciousness said to him, you ought to feel at home. And at home he felt. There were the whispers of a presence that had transcended time and space, crooning to him like a lullaby. Reluctantly, he got up, turning round the corner to the back of the school. 

Seek the one who struck you. 

Had the court always been this misty? The undulations seemed to echo louder than before, recognising him as their own. Jeno wondered if Chenle had heard it too, when he was here, before Jeno's discovery of these lost things. He should have been spooked, really. But he wasn’t. 

In the end he decided to stay until Fencing Club was over. There was no formative plan in his mind, he didn’t even know why he wanted to stay. Perhaps if Ten had been less nondescript he would have told Jeno advice closer to ‘take risks.’

Maybe he was telling him to seek Chenle. Who else could it be? 

In a bout of morbid curiosity, Jeno pondered if a dead Chenle would be able to render the curse void. Fortunately, before he could trickle down that line of thought, he spotted Chenle outside the gym, looking wonderfully blissed out from a good, productive practice. (Jeno knew how that expression looked on himself.)

He travelled down to the basement where the dance studio was. Soso was already there, waiting for him, happy but tired, giving him a smacking kiss on the cheek; Chenle with his boyish bashfulness, rolling his eyes good-naturedly, heading out of school together. 

Nothing out of the ordinary. No reckless pursuit of bleeding technicians.

Of course during the whole ordeal Jeno was as snug as a bug in a rug tucked to the walls, an extension of the school building; the very paragon of stealth. He almost got caught when he had combed through his hair so that it wouldn’t part as rigidly neat from the middle of his head, and his chipped nail had a single strand stringing through it, he didn’t even know his nail had been chipped before it had gotten caught. He got preoccupied trying to remove it as carefully as possible and had nearly sailed shoulder-first into a replica painting of the Mona Lisa that was hanging next to the art studio. The noise would have incriminated him instantly. 

He couldn’t help the tinge of disappointment he felt when he realised Chenle was up to nothing. It was frustrating enough to learn that his one practically non-existent lead was going nowhere. 

When he clambered onto the bus to leave, he thought back to when Renjun had borrowed this book on wiccan rituals. 

There was a phrase the writers would cite to use whenever they were done carrying out a ritual— a sort of closing ment that willed the desired effect of a ritual into existence. He wanted to use it as the verbal proof of the acceptance of his fate. Jeno felt it too clumsy to be said in his thick Korean accent, but he had repeated it under his breath anyway, as if he was scared his voice would be taken away from him, “so mote it be.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> planting seeds :)


	17. Chapter 17

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The child’s cry
> 
> Melts in the wall. 

Jeno was awake. Or at least he thought he was. With the way he was sprawled out across his bed, his hair ought to be flying everywhere, but he could not feel it. He was sort of lying there for a very long time, not feeling anything. He lay there for a couple of minutes, floating, head empty. He was mutely aware that he should get up and start preparing for school. Yet he continued to lie there, unable to do anything else. 

The ceiling was a remarkably boring shade of white, he thought.

He lay there for a little while more until his shoulder got shoved harshly, and he heard a hurried _‘Get up,’_ then there was a violent shudder; all the aches in his arms and legs he was accustomed to after having a dream wrought night slamming into him all at once. He took a jerky, gasping breath. It was as if he had a ton of cuts all over him, healing still, then a bucketful of icy cold lemony water had been dumped over him, the jitter of pins and needles scuttling over his limbs and clinging on.

Dazed, Jeno rolled off the bed. “What’s the matter with you?” asked Yerim, arms akimbo, scrutinising his face. He rubbed his eyes, trying to understand what had happened. He thought he had been awake, although he clearly hadn’t been. Why was he so indefatigable? “Your eyes were open, but you weren’t moving. It was quite odd. You can tell me about it at breakfast, I suppose.”

He went into the bathroom. It was twenty minutes later than when he usually got up. If Yerim hadn’t gone in to wake him, maybe he would have been suspended in that state of sleeping-not-sleeping for an inordinate amount of time. Actually, it didn’t seem like a bad idea. Quite pleasant, in truth, to be aware of his surroundings, but to remain ignorant of his state of consciousness. Being asleep was like an imitation of the dead. 

Jeno removed himself from the shower, glancing over to where the mirror was. Because he had made it a habit to drape a towel over the mirror, he hadn’t seen his reflection in what seemed like forever. He had seen himself covered in orange hair, when he had been unfamiliar with the idea of it. Whatever in him that was making him adventurous this morning, he wasn’t sure. He huffed. It would do no good to be scared of his own shadow. 

Throwing caution into the wind, he pulled the towel off, but all he saw was himself. 

__

It was an especially unusual day. From morning till lunch there had been this awful tinny noise, the howl of some tortured creature. Jeno had great difficulty concentrating during class because of it. 

He tried his best to tune it out, he really did. 

His teacher would be talking in his typical lecturer drawl, “As the electron is charged it makes the jump while remaining contained in the atom…” then there would be this ghastly cry in the far off distance, wailing like a siren. 

Since it was the last class of the day, everyone had brought their bags with them. At the thirty minute mark of an hour and a half lesson, he gave up on trying to concentrate. Instead he watched the lines of Chenle’s expensive bag. He half-expected the jade keychain to be on the zipper, but it was on his desk, tied to his phone. His jade keychain liked to migrate lots, he idly noted. It had been on his wallet too. Chenle was fiddling with it. The last time Jeno had done something like that, the jade had tingled in his hand. He too, seemed distracted; a few students were nodding off.

“Oooo,” the chilling voice wailed. “Oooooooo.”

He would have found it funny if it wasn’t so unnerving. To his side there Yeji sat, her pencil scratching on paper. She was a pain to study with because she would need peace and quiet to focus— if she could have it, she would demand it. Jeno couldn’t shake his knee too much before she would swat at him, so it was unusual that she was paying attention. That noise was abysmal. 

Once, while he was having a one-sided tiff with her, he had tapped his pen against his desk repeatedly and it had nearly driven her mad. Surely she would notice it too. Nobody else seemed unsettled. Jeno must have noticed something no one else had. Maybe he was still dreaming. 

“Oooooo.” Jeno tried to get his hand out of the way when he slammed his locker door shut. He didn’t manage to do it in time, fingers getting stuck, not aching, they felt boneless. How was he supposed to play the guitar later? 

“Shut _up_ ,” he mumbled. 

“Oooooooo.”

That blasted sound was going to last until nightfall, Jeno was sure of it. It was going to be a very long evening.

__

Although they were a distance away from school grounds, he swore he could still hear it. It was annoying. Whenever he thought it was gone, it would spring up again, and howl in shorter intervals, surprising Jeno and sending a spike of fear down his spine. His orange hairs would feel all sharp and pointy again. He would have to smooth them over as discreetly as possible under his shirt. It felt as if he was soothing an antsy hedgehog.

They had moved to a different coffee shop to get lunch today at Jaemin’s insistence. This time they switched up their orders. Jeno politely sipped on an icy lemon tea, needing all the cold he could get. 

Jaemin had latched onto his arm since the bell rang, saying that Jeno was just like a portable heat pack. Jeno was sweating copiously. Quick trips to the bathroom for tissues to dab at his oily face mostly did the trick though. 

“You’re telling me that she just upped and left you like that?” Jaemin asked in disbelief, a little bit of red juice trickling down his chin. He didn't notice. 

“Yeah,” said Renjun, stabbing angrily at a crumpet with a fork. It was preposterous how he would eat pastries with forks and chopsticks. Made an odd sight. “Said that the class would know most of the work would be mine.”

Jeno would feel sorry for his friend’s misfortune with girls, but he was distracted. Should he go investigate the noise? 

He gazed over at them, eyes hooded and tired. “Sorry, guys— have any of you two heard that horrible noise? I can’t focus ‘cause of it. It’s freakin’ frustrating.”

“What noise?” The two of them asked in unison. Jeno exhaled through his nose. 

He told the two of them what had transpired on the day he wasn’t in school. Despite all of them putting their heads together, they couldn’t think of anything conclusive, solely conjecture. 

Rehearsal was a tad more productive. Jeno managed to haphazardly play both songs without Chenle’s eyebrows being pulled down into that narrow-eyed look. 

Unfortunately, he couldn’t thank his improved playing for that. Chenle might have been there in person, but his mind was elsewhere. 

They had practised enough times for Jeno to know that not only he had screwed up his timing— both of them had. Jeno didn’t bother correcting the younger, so Chenle wasn’t even aware that he was wrong. Soso had finished hers early and was watching them intently.

“You’re the one messing it up, not me,” Jeno had said matter-of-factly, feeling victimised after having been chastised for the nth time. Come on, he was the senior here, yet he was the one being admonished like a misbehaving child. 

“I am?”

Chenle had looked so hopelessly confused, utterly befuddled yet lovely, with that momentary colour flushing high on his cheeks, he almost seemed set alight. He just stood there as if someone had told him the earth was flat and Father Christmas wasn’t real. Jeno was horribly cross with himself for thinking fondly of him. 

“So stop giving me the side-eye,” Jeno said, putting his instrument aside. 

In a show of comfort Soso had leaned against him, talking to him in hushed words. It felt strange that such a language, Chinese, with their sharp tones and no room for muddling could be spoken in such a benign manner. She had put a hand on his thigh, the closest physical contact they had shared in front of him. 

The only word he recognised among them was ‘Lele’ and it was just a noun. She said it with such sincerity, ‘Lele, Lele’, a sweet, familiar nickname rolling off her tongue. It was so _intimate_ , it was _too_ intimate, he couldn’t glance away— how would it sound if Jeno had said it, would Chenle react in the same way? 

__

He wasn’t certain where to start. In the empty classroom, the cry was more distant, so he went down a floor, then another, then another, until he was in the basement again. The school had two sections that made up the top floor, that being where the studio and the exercise corner was. The other side was more deserted with a small open space where sparsely placed trees were grown. 

His ankles ached from all the walking. Although he was in shape and exercised regularly, pain like this came to him more easily nowadays. It was as if it was always meant to be there. 

Hovering over the drain, he squatted over the grill, trying to keep an ear out. The crying was louder here, having lessened in intensity. It sounded more like sniffling now— harsh, sharp breaths a ghost should not be able to make.

Hesitantly, he walked towards the storage room, waiting for something. Anything. Why was he cautious? It wasn’t like the ghost could hear him. The weeping had slid into whimpering. He placed a hand on the handle, the metal cool. 

“Hello? Is anyone there?”

“Wha?” The voice that responded was scratchy from disuse. The icy chill that had been sent down his spine was immediate. The person sounded young, not deepened yet, unsure. “You hear me.” The understanding in his tone didn’t appear to belong. It sounded too childish. 

“Um.” If Jeno could start running now, he could get away in time. Besides, the ghost of the woman in Renjun’s attic couldn’t follow him. It didn’t make sense from what he knew, though. Surely ghosts could only be summoned? He wished he had Renjun with him, he didn’t want to talk to it. If it was through the ouija board, there would be a sense of detachment. “I think I should go?”

“No! Stay here and talk to me!” 

The fear he had of another ghost casting another curse over him clung to him. He froze, backing away from the door slightly. If he couldn’t see the ghost, it wouldn’t be that bad. He could close his eyes, let his mind rearrange itself, pretend he was simply talking to a child. “Okay. Okay. I’ll stay. What do you want to talk about?”

“Where’s the one who’ll take me away from here? I felt him,” the girl said. “Is he handsome? I hope he’s handsome. I want someone dashing to rescue me, like a prince.” She giggled, a great contrast from the sobbing he had heard the whole day. “I want him to rescue me, away from here. I’m tired, you know. There’s nothing nice to do but cry.”

Someone in the school could rescue ghosts? Could this someone help him remove the ghost from him, from the attic? This could be a chance to save him. He slumped silently, thinking. It would be better to ask her how she was, in case she would shut off when he asked more probing questions. 

“Why were you crying? I could hear you the whole day,” said Jeno, worrying at his bottom lip. “You weren’t here before.”

“Like I said, I felt like it.” He could hear the ire in her voice. “Can’t a girl do what she wants? Why were you looking for me, anyway?”

Jeno valiantly hoped that his words would stay flat. To have them tremble would be mortifying. “I was wondering how you heard of this boy,” he said. “He can rescue you? What is he like?”

“Oh, you’re interested in him too, are you? You’re like me, but you’ve suffered much more, I can tell, I always can with these things,” she said dismissively. “Wait, you can move around? I got stuck. Now I can’t go anywhere. You need him too, don’t you? If I tell you, will you find him for me?”

What on earth would he be agreeing to? Jeno gulped thickly. “Of course. I can’t pinkie swear on it, but I promise?”

“Ah!” She sounded amused. “A valiant one, you are. Thought that living such a life would have killed your spirit— do you get it? Ha! Ha!” He crushed his arm against his chest, not enjoying the sound of her laughter, unsettling and brittle, not together all around. “The boy’s presence keeps prodding at me. I know there are a couple of people here with charms that tingle just a little, but they’re very weak. He has an item of the same quality, it’s different, it feels sparky, like jolts. Though I think he might be using it, you should be able to feel it, too. Go now, go, will you, shoo, you should come back here another time, come and tell me what you discover, make yourself useful!”

Before Jeno went home, he slipped into the general office, where students would return their class keys at the end of the day. 

Using a diversion, namely Jaemin, he slunk to the mounted key box behind the coffee machine and stole the key for the storage room. Jeno had no clue when he would need it, or if he would need it to talk to the ghost properly. He just felt like he needed it.

__

“You’re staring,” Renjun hissed. 

Jeno wasn’t purposefully trying to stare. It just happened without thinking. 

Chenle was sitting on the other side of the canteen with his friends that Jeno didn’t recognise. He hadn’t bothered to stare prior to this, which was funny. 

He used to have all these questions about him when Chenle had simply been a cute boy he saw in that one store— questions like, did he have any siblings? What did he do in the evenings? How did he like his eggs cooked in the morning? Did he have many friends? 

However, Jeno had never bothered to find out the answers for _any_ of them; although he knew so much about Chenle already, it never seemed to be enough for him. 

Chenle’s black wallet was on the table, the younger boy absently toying with it as he talked, the jade keychain hanging off the zipper. He still remembered how it felt under his fingers, nipping at him like electricity, almost as if he had an affinity with it. It was nothing too overwhelming— the feeling of the swiping thin tongue of a snake surveying its surroundings. 

That wasn’t the only notable thing. The jade was glowing a bright green, highlighting every uneven texture in it, the small bits in it that were white and hazy that blurred the green mineral. It seemed like a regular jade though, no on or off switch anywhere on it. 

Without warning, Renjun hit his hand towards the table, nothing too drastic, away from Chenle’s direction. “Stop being a creep. People can see you staring.”

“Leave him, Injun. Nothing can cure a broken heart,” said Jaemin. The phrasing he had used ought to have a joking tone to it, but it sounded more fatalistic. Jeno was regretting getting anyone involved in the ordeal, siblings included; they always glanced at him sorrowfully as if they were waiting for him to drop dead any second now. 

Renjun must have noticed it too, saying in exaggerated wistfulness, “Oh, to be young, and feel love’s keen sting,” Jaemin laughing, giving him a middle finger under the table; Renjun acting as if he hadn’t been scorned by the girl that sat in front of him in history whom he had admired for an entire three months. He felt his heart swell like a stretched balloon. 

“I didn’t even mean to stare, honestly,” said Jeno. “I was just looking at his wallet. Haven't you noticed? It keeps travelling, from his bag to his belt loop, to his wallet. Where to next? Maybe his ear?” 

Then he pointed at it, also surprised at himself for saying it out loud. It felt as if it was the phenomenon when once you noticed something, you see it everywhere, like taxis. Once he had needed a ride because he was running late for class, so his sister had told him to fetch a taxi. Jeno had cried, ‘What taxis? I never see any taxis near our place,’ then he rolled out onto the street and saw five orange and silver taxis appear like flashing street lights on the road in the span of five minutes. 

“You can be strange sometimes,” said Renjun and Jeno promptly flushed to the tips of his ears. “Wait. I see it now, but I would have never noticed it on my own.”

“It’s not even glowing that brightly,” Jaemin remarked. “Maybe in the dark. It’s not noticeable in the daytime, though.”

Jeno thought for a moment. The girl ghost had mentioned a boy who had a special item. Surely the jade was a special item? And it _glowed_. 

The universe must think it was spectacularly hilarious to constantly play ironic, colossal jokes especially on him. Everything was a horrible, terrible coincidence. 

“I noticed it once, now I notice it all the damn time, that’s why. Don’t peg me for a stalker,” Jeno mumbled, but his friends wouldn’t hear of it because they were cruel and evil like that. 

__

He hated practices on the days after club. He would take a shower every time they had soccer practice, always later, waiting for everyone else to clear the locker room so none of his teammates would see the hairs growing on his body. Although Jaemin would keep watch for him outside, Jeno found the silence antsy, so he never managed to wash his hair properly. If he didn’t go home to properly wash it a second time, the shampoo would dry on his scalp and flake. It was horrifying to wake up with white bits the shape of his spotty scalp emerging on his pillow. 

His hair was wet, dribbling down the sides of his head.

Chenle’s expression had been particularly tight that day, he had even been a little impatient as he talked, his syllables slightly rushed. Maybe the eatery he ate at was serving a popular dish today, so he couldn’t wait to get back. As unlikely as it would be for Chenle to be upset because of Jeno’s performance, Jeno kept wondering if he was the problem. 

The crying had ceased. When the rehearsal ended, Jeno left immediately. Something in the gym made the air feel different, not like the one outside the storage room, but it was more electric, upset. Everyone else, including the dance crew, was quicker to anger as if some bad luck charm had been hung from the ceiling.

__

“Hello?” Jeno asked, unlocking the door. 

Inside the storage room all the equipment was where they had always been, not a hair misplaced. He frowned. No ghost. 

He didn’t know what to expect... a faint trace of a girl with pigtails? In the darkness of the attic, he couldn’t see any ghost there, would he see the wounds that caused their deaths? 

“I think I found the boy who could help you,” said Jeno cautiously. “Would you like to know?” 

Nobody home. Yesterday might have been a special day and she could have chosen to leave.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My beta reader helped me for this one so this didn't take me 27192902 hours to edit lmao


	18. Chapter 18

After some investigating, Jeno realised that there _was_ another ghost in the gym. Its influence was already wildly deviating from the one’s down in the basement. He knew he had to be more careful. 

He stayed in the corner, slightly bug-eyed the entire practice, unabashedly staring at the mangled translucent thing hiding behind the whiteboard.

It had a head full of wild, scruffy hair, covering a large part of its face. There was a neat cut that severed its hand from its arm, dangling limply. Even the sight made Jeno squirm uncomfortably. Chenle, his prime (and only) suspect for the resident ghostbuster, had his back firmly turned to the ghost, so Jeno couldn’t judge his reaction to it, which was disappointing. 

He decided to confront it the next morning when there was no one around. The bus had broken down on the way to school, so Jeno had to pedal furiously to arrive early. 

Even while trying to communicate with it, he tried to keep his distance, thrusting the flashlight forward as a barrier. 

“It’s nice to meet you, sir,” said Jeno sharply. “I’m sorry if I misgendered you.”

The ghost made a low, rumbling sound in its throat. _Ghosts could growl?_ Jeno had to keep his wits about him or else he would die someday from indecision. 

Then, there was Chenle. Although he was assigned to keep track of the sports equipment in the gym, he hadn’t been paying attention to the new items appearing on the shelves. Things had been appearing and disappearing, odd little trinkets like flower pots, thumbtacks, telephone sets in the baskets.

When they had practised in the gym, after setting up some makeshift stage constructed out of canteen benches, Chenle had said, “I’ll stay behind for a while, hurry on without me”. Jeno had been struck by how suspicious his behaviour was. What struck him even more was how long it had been going on, Jeno had never bothered to question it— how could he not have noticed? 

Jeno slunk down to the lobby, trying to trod as quietly as possible. Although he was far from brash, the possibility of him stepping on something minuscule and giving himself a fright was very, _very_ real. 

Breathing shallow, he followed Chenle down the Boiler Room once more, wondering if he’d see another person there, bleeding out on the floor. The last time he had been here, Chenle had moved swiftly, with purpose, as if his gaze had been reduced down to tunnel vision. 

Jeno was at the top of the stairs, waiting. His foot slipped slightly, causing a tiny rock on the step to tumble down, skidding down, going _tak, tak, tak_ as it hit one step, two step, three step. 

Jeno froze up. Chenle was going to turn around any second, he knew it! 

As if he had heard nothing at all, Chenle continued to walk forward. He retreated into the shadowy darkness, not bothering to turn on any of the lights. Jeno glared at his retreating figure, outraged by Chenle’s one-track mind. _What if a person with harmful intentions had decided to stalk him? He would never know._

Jeno shook out his hair. He didn’t try to disguise the sounds of his footsteps this time. 

There was a very small ceiling light, flickering like mad above them. Tucked underneath Chenle’s arm, was one tattered textbook. Jeno strained his eyes to see what Chenle was holding tightly in his fist. 

A green glow. 

Jeno barely managed to catch the sight of it in the daytime. Now… it was glowing, but only faintly. It vanished under the swift, assessing swipe of Chenle’s thumb. Slowly and deliberately Chenle laid the textbook on the floor.

Was he expecting something? He held his breath. 

“Come to me, Jiho Tae, son of Yuna Jung,” Chenle boomed. 

Silence. 

He stamped his foot impatiently. “Jiho Tae! I literally yelled your name. There is nowhere else you can go!” 

The textbook began to shake. Chenle hovered over it. Jeno couldn’t see what had happened. A beat later, _and the ghost he had seen back in the gym appeared!_

Jeno couldn’t breathe. A horrible feeling washed over him in one swift swoop. He was trembling. The storage room girl had told him about Chenle, but what exactly was he going to do with the jade? What on earth would he do? Ritual the ghost away? 

“You have brought another to scare me?” The ghost looked furious, but he wasn’t any close to thunderous. “I don’t understand. Are you this desperate, seer?”

Jeno swerved away from the side of the wall where he was hiding. 

A low muttering. “I’ll deal with you at home. Honestly. What was I thinking when I thought about confronting you here?” 

A bright flash. The ghost was gone. 

The jade keychain was so bright, it was like a glowing, pulsating sun in pitch-black night, so bright it almost hurt Jeno’s eyes. Since the ghost had vanished, that meant that Chenle’s senses were sharpened once more, stalking in Jeno’s direction, the tiny jade as big as a lantern. 

“Hm, this is new,” Chenle said aloud, voice growing louder. Should Jeno expose himself now? “Spirits usually run away from me. Why are you seeking me out?”

Oh, who was he trying to fool…?

How was Jeno going to get away? If he feigned ignorance, Jeno might be able to get away without suspicion. Most people couldn’t see ghosts. It would be dismissed as a coincidence. With this new plan in mind, he quickly hurried up the staircase, combing his hair back into place. He would peer down this passageway; act the role of a concerned senior. 

“Chenle!” Jeno called. “Are you alright?”

“Jeno,” answered Chenle. He paused, only stuttering into motion after a couple of tumultuous seconds. Mustering a half-hearted smile, he tilted his head slightly, something sweet and vulnerable blossoming across his face. “I must be dreaming. This can’t be.”

Jeno’s heart was still pounding hard from his discovery. Managing to school his features into a kind and unassuming expression, he made himself visibly deflate once he laid his gaze on Chenle as part of his act. 

“You aren’t asleep. I saw you coming down here and I wanted to check on you. The last we were here, something terrible happened. Think of it as your senior looking out for you,” said Jeno, offering an arm to Chenle. He looked as if someone had swiped him over the ears. “I’ll help you out. You should go home.”

__

It was Chenle’s secret. 

Technically— Jeno wouldn’t be able to prove to anyone else he could see spirits— but it meant he would have to tell Chenle he could see ghosts too. It also meant lying by omission, and in his current state, could he do that? He didn’t have much to lose. 

Jeno sniffled, burrowing deeper underneath his blankets. The fur he was growing served as an insulator, sure, but nowadays he felt more… chilly. It was the world of a difference from how it had been just weeks prior when sweat had stuck like glue to his skin under his clothes, the trickles of perspiration he itched so badly to wipe away.

But he’d have to divulge every detail. Including the fact that he had a big, fat crush on Chenle. If it even counted as a crush; Jaemin told him normal crushes didn’t mean you only wanted the best for them, even at the cost of your own happiness, no, that wasn’t it, this sort of thing was greater, it was—

God! He shivered, tugging the blanket to his chin. It wasn’t due to the cold. Had he always been this sentimental? To tell Chenle that he… that he… likes… 

(Might as well die.)

A half-truth would suffice.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you happened to read up to this point, you must be thinking, "FINALLY!"


	19. Chapter 19

_I see the same as you, Chenle. Could we meet by the eco-garden right after lunch?_

To be fair, Jeno was feeling particularly inspired when he wrote that note after Jaemin had video called him for an anime binge. _So that you’ll feel better_ , he had said. The protagonist had slid a pink note into the slits of her love interest’s locker, instructing him to meet by the cherry blossom tree to confess his feelings to him. 

He was confessing something, yes, but it wasn’t anything romantic or of the sort. There would be a lot to say. He had already told his siblings and his best friends. How hard could it be, really?

Maybe he should have not ended the note with a question. Chenle could answer yes or no. Lost in thought, Jeno glanced at his reflection in the green waters of the pond, watching it wobble in slow, unhurried ripples. Maybe Chenle wouldn’t show up. The note wasn’t very discreet, no, not at all, there was a possibility that Chenle would have simply turned up his nose at it. 

Footsteps. Jeno turned around. He could see Chenle brushing through the numerous fern plants populating the entrance of the garden, stony-faced. 

Jeno liked to think that most of the time, the younger boy wore his heart on his sleeve. He could wear an unreadable mask when the situation called for it, but emotions normally flitted over his face with an easy glide. That was why Jeno liked watching him so much. He was easy to read.

Chenle saw him first. His lips had parted a little, falling open to form a small, silent ‘o’. “Jeno?” He sounded like he couldn’t believe it either. “You see?”

Beckoning him over with a finger, Jeno treaded deeper into the garden, over grass and weeds. “We have a lot to discuss,” he said, valiantly hoping he sounded sure of himself. “We can’t do it out in the open, though. Come with me.”

There was a bench by the lower pond, lichen growing in clumps from a lack of maintenance. According to the resident gossips, students frequented this place for dates. If others saw them from afar, they would give them a wide berth, so they wouldn’t be interrupted. 

Jeno listened to the water flowing down the stream to calm his nerves, to give Chenle time to think, and to give himself time to gather the words he wanted to say. Chenle had spilled his heart to him; now it was his turn.

“I’ve seen you,” said Jeno, wincing at how stalker-like it came out. “I met a ghost down in the storage room. She was talking about a boy that could save her, a boy with a special item. It was you, I’m guessing.”

“It was me,” Chenle copied dutifully, tucking a loose strand of blond hair behind his ear and looking away. “I never expected to meet someone like me. The only ones I know are my family.”

“Your family?” asked Jeno, wide-eyed. There were more people like Chenle? “Do you know where the ghost in the storage room went?”

Surprised face dimming, Chenle started toying with his hand in his lap. To introduce himself this way— it might not have been the best idea— Chenle might have been feeling lonely, and to meet someone like himself only to find out that said someone had no clue what he was doing would be disappointing. 

“She’s still there,” said Chenle. 

“What? But she wasn’t there, I saw. Isn’t it Hungry Ghost Month? Does that mean that she could go away if she wanted to? Perhaps you were confused,” said Jeno in a rush. 

Chenle put a hand on his shoulder to get him out of his frazzled state. Then Jeno finally noticed his close-knit eyebrows and flat-lined mouth. “She’s a,” he said, pausing, “I don’t know how to say this in Korean. I guess you could call her a weird ghost?”

“A weird ghost?” Jeno repeated incredulously. “There are types of ghosts?”

“Oh, I’m an idiot,” said Chenle, slapping a hand against his forehead. “My grandfather, my maternal grandfather taught me all I know about these spirits. I got this affinity for spirits from him. I have a notebook from him, it’s in Chinese. It’ll be easier if I refer to it while I explain.” 

Chenle grabbed Jeno’s wrist, dragging him out of the garden. “My bag’s in the classroom. I swear it’ll make sense later, I’ve never had to explain it to anyone else before—”

Meanwhile, Jeno was trying his hardest to regulate his increased heart rate. He had never been to Chenle’s classroom. In the past, Jeno would have been thrilled to see it because it meant spending more time with Chenle, but he had no clue what he was getting himself into now.

Unceremoniously, Chenle left him standing before digging through his bag, taking out a green notebook and sitting down haphazardly. There were plenty of neon, multi-coloured tabs sticking out of it, Chenle paging through them and stopping at the last one. 

“Weird ghosts were materialistic people and have the ability to turn into any object,” recited Chenle. “She had turned herself into a broom, well, I know this because I got rid of her the other day.”

“You can get rid of ghosts?” Jeno didn’t mean to act like a parrot. It just happened.

“Keep your voice down, please.” A girl sitting on the opposite side of the classroom glanced up from her comic book, giving them a funny look. 

When Jeno opened his mouth to ask yet another question, Chenle continued. “I have this keychain with a jade on the end. It’s a special kind of jade. It helps me trap ghosts. And I bring them elsewhere, to deal with them. To send a ghost back, effectively removing them from the world of the living… it’s is a serious undertaking. It means it takes some time.”

“I…” Astonished, Jeno could only gawk at him. “I… didn’t expect you to tell me everything so quickly. I have to admit something. I saw you the other day. I was trying to see what you were up to.”

“What?” It was Chenle’s turn to be gobsmacked. “That doesn’t make sense. You feel like a spirit, somewhat. I thought that you were one of the many in school. When they’re all together in close proximity, it’s hard to tell how many of them there are. Are you dead?” 

“No!” Jeno cried. “The reason why you’re sensing a ghost is that… I got cursed by a ghost and the curse involves her using a part of her soul to make it happen.”

“You _what_?” 

Third time's the charm, right? Hopefully, Chenle would take it better than everyone else he had told. “I’ve never met anyone cursed by a ghost before. You must have pissed him off really bad.”

“It was a particularly vengeful ghost,” Jeno said dryly, rubbing the back of his neck self-consciously. Then came the lie. “She said the curse would fully manifest by Halloween Eve. She didn’t specify.”

“You met a vengeful ghost? Oh shit,” muttered Chenle. “Explained why she was so curse-crazy.”

“You can help me? Tell me you can help me,” said Jeno desperately. “I’ve given up all hope. I’m afraid I might die.” 

With a firm grip, Chenle encased his hands with his own. That was a promise in itself. 

The determination in his eyes was startling, a window to the furnace inside, burning his dark pupils like candle wax. “I promise I’ll help you. I’ve never dealt with anything like this, but I’ll try the tried and tested ways, and if they don’t work, we can experiment.”

“I wish I had told you earlier,” Jeno admitted, hanging his head. “Maybe you could have saved me a lot of worrying.”

Chenle’s hold was reassuring, culling the panic that had been roosting in his chest. 

“You would need to find out what I do. And I don’t know if I could have told you that if I didn’t know you as well as I do you now,” he said honestly. “We still have some time, don’t we? We can figure something out. I can’t say I’ll solve it for sure, but I promise I’ll try my best.”

And that was the best Jeno could hope for. 

__

**[me] i wont be free on saturday**

**[me] ill be at chenle’s house**

**[nana] don’t set urself up for heartbreak!**

**[me] im afraid i have no control over that**

**[nana] then perish**


	20. Chapter 20

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Deep greens and blues are the colors I choose  
> Won't you let me go down in my dreams?

_”What do you call this, exactly?” I asked._

_“It’s called a one night stand,” he said. “Have you not had one before?”_

_“No. But it was a very good one night stand,” I clarified, clinging onto his arm._

_I could see the appeal of this. It was nice to have someone brush your hair gently, to hold you close in your arms and say that they loved you._

_“If it makes you feel better, I feel the same way.” I smiled._

__

Jeno woke up to the smell of soup. His bones aching, he sat up, squinting as shards of sunlight entered his vision. 

The bedsheet was much silkier than what he was used to. He crumpled it underneath his hands, feeling his head groan from the ache. After a few minutes, he realised where he was. 

This was Chenle’s room. In Chenle’s house. He could still catch a whiff of the lingering fragrance of a thunderstorm. 

Despite his aching muscles, he got out of bed, trying his best to get his hair into looking somewhat presentable. He padded down the stairs. Chenle was sitting on the couch. The tiny television that was perched on the short bookshelf was blaring noisily. 

“Good morning?” he asked awkwardly. “There’s something about me and fainting in your house.”

“I’m really sorry, Jen,” said Chenle, getting up to join him, leaning against the wall with his hands deep in his pockets. “I figured out what was causing your fainting, so I tossed it out for now. We were supposed to discuss what to do in the morning. Do you want to eat something?”

“So? What reduced me into a sleeping beauty?” Jeno asked, picking at his food. They were sitting around the coffee table, sharing from the same pot of soup. Jeno had no qualms about eating it. It was a little bland, but food was food. 

“My grandfather,” said Chenle, the hint of a flush crawling up his arms, “gave me a little statue I kept by the door. He said it warded away ghosts rather strongly. I guess your body reacted accordingly.”

“Your grandfather taught you everything you knew, you said?” Chenle nodded. “What do you have to do to get rid of the ghosts, then? Is it your job or something?”

“Not my job, nothing like that,” Chenle said quickly, flustered. “Just a hobby. I am by no means a professional. It's a personal obligation, almost. Not many people can see ghosts, much less have the materials to whisk them away. It would be awful for them to be wandering among themselves for the rest of eternity, so I do what I can.”

It didn’t sound like a simple hobby. Chenle’s voice was laden-heavy, rather, it was a heaviness which he didn’t expect from him. He had slipped into the same state he had when he had been talking about his musical talent.

“Were you born with it?” Jeno asked, but Chenle was already shuttered away. They ate the rest of their lunch in the most unbearable quiet Jeno had ever experienced with the younger boy. There was a first time to everything.

Jeno had told him the general premise of what had happened: Renjun wanted to summon a ghost, a ghost was summoned, Jeno bad-mouthed her, he got cursed, oh no, what now? Apparently, as the curse progressed, she grew fainter in appearance. 

Immediately, Chenle pried out a parchment from underneath the table and started scribbling. “Normally a vengeful ghost would be more difficult to subdue,” he said carefully. “Since you told me she isn’t angry anymore, I think the normal way should suffice.” 

“Normal way?”

“I can do it myself. What’s important is that you need to have something of the ghost when they have lived. A ring, a blanket, a hair tie,” he said dismissively. “You also need to know her name and one of her immediate family’s names. Whatever they define themselves best, by certain family relations. Grandfather said it’s a cultural thing.”

“That matches up with what I heard,” said Jeno. “Sounds easy enough.”

Chenle’s pensive expression said otherwise. “It’s very, very difficult. A handful of ghosts I’ve encountered have been around for years and years. So old that it’s difficult to get their records, and whatever they’ve had disintegrated.”

“Oh,” Jeno said blankly. Maybe not, then. “Where do we start?”

__ 

They visited Renjun’s house later that week. It was a Monday evening, and after a long day of school, he was having a cup of tea with his _best friend’s mother._ It couldn’t possibly get any weirder. 

Chenle didn’t have a proper plan. The next logical step was for them to return to where Jeno was cursed. If the ghost was vengeful, it must have been because of a terrible crime. The neighbourhood Renjun’s family had moved into had been around for some time, surely some longtime resident of the area would know something. Even the smallest clue could go a long way. What was daunting, though, was the fact that he had to go from door to door to ask around. 

Renjun’s mother was nice, exchanging tidbits of information, generally speaking of school. Chenle gave Auntie a wan smile, dropping the traditional teacup onto the tiny porcelain plate. It was a signal to leave. 

“It’s getting late, Auntie,” said Jeno. “We ought to get going.”

“Of course. It’s a school night, isn’t it? I didn’t know two boys could make such lovely people to talk to,” Auntie said cheerfully. “Next time you come around, do have tea with me sometimes instead of mucking around with Renjun, will you?”

Jeno offered to clean up for them, nearly forgetting not to roll up his sleeves as he carefully covered the dishes with suds. He could hear Auntie and Chenle talking in Chinese, much to his chagrin. They rejoined each other by the door. 

“Auntie told me there’s a neighbour who’s been around for a long time, and very accommodating, three houses down. We could go ask around,” said Chenle. “I told her that we’d just be over next door, just in case we get into trouble.”

It was a nice, lived-in home. The veranda was left largely untouched, though, with glittering cobwebs falling from the ceiling in draping curtains. Chenle clambered up the short steps to knock, waiting for someone to answer. 

The door swung open. A woman with unusually bright brown hair strode out, aged, blood-flecked eyes twinkling with unbidden amusement. She was dressed in a frilly, flowery dressing gown. Clearly, she was turning in for the night. “What are you two doing at a stranger’s house so late?” she asked. 

“I just have a few questions for you,” said Chenle. “I was curious about the rumour of the haunted house three houses down. Where did it come from?”

“My!” She crossed her arms. “You wake me up once I’m going to sleep for a couple of questions?”

Before Chenle could mutter an apology, she went back into her house to get something. Jeno and Chenle looked at each other, confused. She returned with a thick manuscript, holding it out for them. “If you’re going to pester me, you ought to help me. Give a second opinion.”

They wound up sitting messily on her carpet, without a clue what her name was, going through the numerous pages of an early version of a book. It was the strangest thing. 

It was a waste of time, by right, them leaning over the stack of papers, doing a favour for a woman they barely knew about. This was not part of the plan. 

Chenle wrote down his thoughts on a spare piece of paper and handed it to her once they were done. 

She looked insufferably pleased when she had glanced over their feedback. Jeno resisted the urge to roll his eyes. 

“Alright,” she said. “I believe that I owe you a favour. Do you see the house down there?” She used her pen as a pointer, gesturing in the direction of a modern-looking house. “I believe the gentleman down there would be a valuable source.”

The time they had spent there wasn’t truly fruitless, then. Only Jeno remembered to say a quick goodbye before catching up with Chenle. It was already getting late, far later than his parents would let him. Not to mention that he had school the next day. 

An elderly man was sitting close-eyed in a rocking chair. This was the man they had come to see. Jeno mustered the courage to go up to him, gently brushing a hand over his knobby shoulder. “Excuse me, sir,” he said in a quiet voice. 

He cast a panicked glance to the house, wondering if there would be any disgruntled son or daughter sauntering out to call the man back in. He didn’t want anyone to assume they were a bunch of troublemakers, pestering their peaceable father. When he didn’t wake, Jeno gripped his shoulders more tightly. “Sir?”

One annoyed eye opened. “Eunjin? Don’t you know how to respect your seniors,” he grumbled. 

“I’m not Eunjin. I’m Jeno. Could I ask you a few questions, sir?” the boy asked. 

Affronted, he stared at the two of them, swiveling from one to another. He sat up, more curiously this time. His first reaction was welcoming, at least. “Keep it quick.”

“The auntie down the street told me I could ask you about the rumour of the ghost down the street, you see. I hope I’m not bothering you,” said Jeno. 

The old man glanced over at the aforementioned house. “Ugh, Petunia. Well, she can’t get into my bad books because the rumours I know of serve as fodder for her silly stories.” He flapped a knotty, misshapen hand. “Come closer, boy, I’ll tell you.”

Chenle shrunk closer, tipping into the space of the conversation when he had been quiet all the while. 

“There was an angry, widowed mother who had lived in a rich community. Apparently, the divorce had left her penniless,” he said, slipping into this great, rich story-telling voice. Jeno could see how Petunia could spawn entire book plots from these stories. 

“Her ex-husband had come for their child. To remove a child from his mother is one of the worst things you can do. Have you heard the saying ‘hell hath no fury a woman scorned?’ In her great fit of anger, she murdered him and died in the process. Her body was found here, I heard.”

They thanked him quickly and left. 

“That was a lot of misogynist baloney,” Chenle had declared. “The true stories of women are often twisted and set up against them.”

He agreed aloud, but Jeno couldn’t shake off the feeling that there was a shred of truth in the bloody tale. 

“Where to next?” asked Jeno. 

“Newspapers.”

__

Now they had a rough guide. All they needed were some records. 

They were lucky the ghost had died from such a notable event, as that increased the odds that the incident would have been recorded down some time in the newspaper. Apparently, just a city away was a grand, huge library with a floor dedicated to records of the city available for public viewing. They would go after practice.

Jeno let Chenle explain to Yeji, tailing them as they talked. Then Soso went up to him. The younger boy shook his head, returning to him quickly. Somehow he had managed to come up with a plausible explanation for missing rehearsal. “What did she ask?”

“Oh, Soso was just wondering if she could tag along,” said Chenle. “I told her no. It’s not like she’d understand.”

It made Jeno warm inside to know that both of them shared something that not even Chenle’s girlfriend would understand. He was surprised to not feel a pang of guilt that typically followed such a line of thought. He wasn’t actively working towards dismantling their relationship. Let himself indulge for a moment, he thought to himself. 

It was quite a long ride there. According to Chenle’s best estimate, they would return home before dark. It was rather crowded, so much so when the train carriage wobbled slightly, everyone else in close proximity quivered along with them like mangled jello. 

Chenle accidentally bumped his chin against Jeno’s shoulder, knocking the air out of Jeno. (It was not solely because of Chenle’s weight.)

“Do you remember how I joined the Halloween dance for my brother?” 

Jeno nodded. “Yes. What about it?”

“He said he can’t come to the dance. My sister-in-law is expecting, and she’s been taking maternity leave, so he’s making up for it at work. It’s better for me to fly over than him.” 

Blinking slowly, Jeno frowned. “I’m sorry about that. Does this mean that you’ll be quitting?”

“No!” said Chenle, aghast that Jeno would suggest such a thing. Dropping his voice to a low, teasing one, he said in a whisper, as if telling a secret, “you know, ‘cause you’re here, you make it more worthwhile. Duh, Yeji is here too, but still.”

Jeno hoped to God that his face wasn’t going red. Who did Chenle think he was, toying with his heart? Sure, he wasn’t doing it on purpose, yet… could they reach their destination any faster, please? 

__

The library’s size was not exaggerated in the slightest. Shelves and shelves of books were stacked upon each other. It boggled Jeno’s mind to know that there were floors upon floors of material. 

Chenle didn’t bother staring. “The top floor is where we should go,” he said.

As they went upstairs, the number of people lessened. By the time they reached the top floor, everything had fallen into an unearthly quiet. “There used to be a shelf full of newspapers dating from fifty years back. They replaced it with a computer, though.”

There was a small white computer on a wooden desk by a corner. “Only one?” asked Jeno, wondering how exactly they were supposed to comb through fifty years’ worth of newspapers in an afternoon. 

__

It didn’t take one afternoon. 

They took turns. One would sit in the spinning seat, another would stand up, hunched over to share the screen. 

“Look,” Chenle said, giggling. “7 January 1999. Breathing oxygen linked to staying alive.” 

“Another one. 18 February 1998, new stocks of Panadol get sold out at the local grocer.”

“They honestly don’t have anything to report about. I get it, though, all the big newspapers have covered it already,” said Jeno. “Small town. No clue what happened with the intern back in 1999, though.”

__

It felt almost anticlimactic. After weeks of tearing his hair out over the curse, he was spending far less time rapidly gathering information to dismantle it. He didn’t breathe a word to his friends no matter how much they pestered him. If they told them, he would have to tell them about Chenle’s involvement by proxy.

“I’m learning more about the ghost,” he told Jaemin earnestly one afternoon. “I’m figuring it out. Don’t worry about me, will you?” 

“You understand that I will never stop worrying about you, do you?” asked Jaemin. 

“I do.” His friend combed his fingers through his hair fondly. Had Jaemin always been this sappy? “I worry about your heart too. In the metaphorical sense, ‘course.”

Perhaps he hadn’t done enough thinking about this. After going through several days of hopelessly pouring through years and years of newspapers, they hadn’t stumbled upon anything of significance. A murder-suicide in this neighbourhood wasn’t small. Surely there would be a huge splash across the papers. People didn’t die every day, and not from such horrific circumstances. 

“To be honest, I’ve been going through the newspapers to try and find what had caused the death of the ghost in the attic,” said Jeno. “I’ve not gone any farther than that, though.”

“Is that why you’ve been skipping out rehearsals? Let me help you,” Jaemin tugged insistently on his sleeve. “I can keep a secret. I’ll have to skip soccer practice, though. We can skip lessons for a day—”

“No!” Jeno blurted out, startling him. Pain flashed across Jaemin’s face. “It’s not that I don’t— it’s complicated— Chenle is trusting me to—”

“I understand,” said Jaemin, retracting. “I’ll just give you moral support. Okay?” 

To have such a hobby meant he would have to dedicate time to searching… he would have to lie… his family was away, the only people who could understand. Was this what Chenle had to deal with? 

He didn’t feel as terrible for telling so many people about his curse. Keeping secrets could take a toll on you, it seemed. Chenle would know.

__

Shoulders aching, Jeno rubbed at his eyes, feeling dreary. The words on the screen were starting to blur together until they didn’t even look like words anymore. 

Instead of wasting time commuting to the grand library every day, they managed to copy some dates onto a thumbdrive to take home and read at their own time. 

He had thought that such a solution would make things faster, but it made it even more of a headache. He could sift through more pages now in search of obituaries, trying to look for one with a familiar face. 

Maybe he was looking in the wrong place. He dragged his feet through the wet grass, on a return trip to Renjun’s house. Jeno found himself hovering outside the same house they had visited, wondering if he could ask for more details. 

The uncle was in the same place, as usual, enjoying the cold evening sun. “Um, not to bother you, but I have just one more question regarding that legend?” 

Thankfully the older man didn’t appear as bothered. “You’ve bothered me, alright. Shoot. Where’s your little friend?”

Jeno shook his head. “Not here. The woman you were talking about— do you know the rough time frame when her body was discovered?”

__

_** Two Bodies Are Found In Horrific Murder-Suicide ** _

“Look,” said Jeno. “And a related article for a month after.”

_** Murder-Suicide Case Hit A Dead End, says Police Chief ** _

“No obituary?” 

They ended up printing it out and sticking it to Chenle’s corkboard. It was their first cut-out, so to make it feel more special, Jeno had bought a special red thread to link everything together, pretending to be investigators. 

After what he had just read, Jeno’s head was spinning with possible explanations, trying to piece together what little he knew. 

The identity of the victim and murderer were withheld from the public. It lined up with what they already knew, but why would the police find it necessary to censor their identities? None of them were minors. The reason for doing so wasn’t mentioned in the articles either. 

They were following Chenle’s plans, but Jeno didn’t know about the steps in detail. He looked pointedly at Chenle, who was worrying at his bottom lip, reddened from gnawing. Jeno wished he could tug at it without it being weird. 

“Do you think that the police station would keep closed cases?”

“Well, I think we should sleep,” said Jeno. 

The short hand of the clock was pointing at one. Since they ended up talking into the night, he had to stay over. It was Friday, so his parents didn’t really mind. 

Normally Doyoung would have fussed over the constant sleepovers, but Jeno had told him it was for the sake of resolving the curse. His brother had let him go with a pensive look on his face. 

Chenle slept on a big bed with clean green linen sheets that smelled like lavender. Jeno knew because they were sharing it. 

He had told the younger boy he would feel uncomfortable anywhere else in the house by himself, insisting he could sleep on the floor in a sleeping bag. Chenle, in turn, had instructed him to sleep on the bed, as it would be an impolite way to treat a guest. They couldn’t agree. 

_This_ was the compromise. A terrible, strange, wicked compromise. 

Silently, he slipped a bolster in the middle of the duvet, pawning off the rest of the blanket to Chenle. He lay down on his side and tried his best to drift into the folds of sleep, no matter how pointless he knew his efforts would be. 

Five minutes to two. 

From that point on, Jeno was fully aware he was not going to get a wink of sleep tonight. 

He continued to stay there with his eyes closed, flying open when Chenle let out a loud yawn, shifting in his sleep. A warm leg was tossed over his own. Startled, Jeno tried to gently push it away without waking the younger up. A slight nudge and he was completely awake. 

Jeno perched at the end of the bed. It had been drizzling for the past fifteen minutes or so. He watched droplets of rain dripping down the windowpane, counting them as they slid down the blue-tinted glass. It could lull him, like sheep, he thought faintly. 

One drop, two drops, three drops…fifty-seven drops… his mouth was starting to run dry. He hugged his knees to his chest, so absorbed in his counting that he didn’t notice Chenle’s breathing had become shallow. 

“Nngh… Jeno? Why are you awake?” Jeno jumped, turning to see a thoroughly sleep-mussed Chenle seated upright, rubbing adorably— no, he was definitely not adorable— at his face. 

“Couldn’t sleep,” Jeno said simply. “Might go for a nighttime walk. The weather is nice.” 

He blindly prodded for the lamp, turning its gentle light on with a flick to find his way out of the room. It was an impulsive decision, really. 

Chenle’s house was located in a nice place, a quaint little cobblestone walk linking the doorstep to the pavement. He imagined the occasional car passing by, could hear rubber tires splashing noisily as it sped across puddles.

“But it’s raining.” Jeno raised his eyebrows in a silent _‘come with?’_ “Okay, okay, I’m coming.”

At first, they stood by the veranda as if they were waiting for someone. He must have still looked wide-eyed and active, as compared to the drowsy look on Chenle’s face. 

It smelled like dew, just more intense. Although it was awfully late at night, Jeno wanted to do something both amazing and stupid. 

“Jeno, what are you—”

He stepped out into the rain.

It tickled his face, down the shell of his ear, glueing his dark eyelashes together in a slow continuous trickle. 

“Can you believe that I’ve never done this before!” he shouted, half-laughing. It was incredibly exhilarating to not overthink things, to simply _do._

In his blinding, blurring mass of vision, he saw Chenle gasping in shock, leaning on his toes against the railing. “What are you doing! You’ll catch a cold! Aren’t you supposed to be sensible!” But his body language said otherwise, limbs almost falling out of the shelter of the veranda roof. 

When the rain stopped, Chenle padded outside to join him. The wet grass made squelching noises under their slipper-covered feet. He had a thick towel on his arm which Jeno gratefully accepted, wrapping around himself. He ought to feel cold. However, his fur kept him well insulated, so he let it hang loosely over his shoulders like a cape. 

They listened to the grasshoppers chirping in the ambience, a symphony and a cacophony at the same time. “Does your grandfather deal with ghosts too?” 

“It’s a family business,” said Chenle. He seemed to shrink into himself, arms folded in his chest. Nowadays the temperature dipped below a single digit after nine. Chenle wasn’t even in a dressing gown, only a thin sweater. He shouldn’t have dragged him out so late. 

Jeno nudged him gently. “Do you wanna go back? Sounds like we have a long day tomorrow, I wouldn’t want you falling over yourself.”

“I’m not cold.” Chenle scoffed as if he had read Jeno’s mind. “Could we sit down, though? My legs hurt.”

Now that he thought about it, Jeno didn’t know much of Chenle’s talents. Not much of the specifics. He had spent most of the last week in Chenle’s midst. Surely he would have learnt more? Chenle was looking out and above, away from him, gazing upon a hazy half-moon in a starless sky. 

_It was a night just like this…_

“I wanted to be a baker, when I was little.” 

From the corner of his eye he could see Chenle lifting his head. If Jeno hadn’t been paying attention, he wouldn’t have noticed. 

“Then I became a teenager and I had no clue what I wanted to be. I didn’t have any outstanding talents. To be honest, I was sort of getting an idea of what I could work as… I didn’t want to listen to my parents’ suggestions at all. I guess, in that aspect, it was one of the few things I actively rebelled against. It would be like lying to myself.” He closed his eyes. “It was easier to act passively.”

Chenle’s voice was feather-soft, a patient hum in the rainless lull. “What was it?” 

“You remember the stuff I started bringing stuff from home? I started cooking more. I guess I’m pretty good at it. I cook my parents bigger meals these days, and they compliment me on it. That's nice, I suppose, but I wonder what they’d say if I wanted to go for, I don’t know, culinary school?”

“You could take up a part-time job over the holidays… why don’t you work as a chef? Ease them into the idea that you might have a job like that in future,” suggested Chenle. 

It was a good idea. Jeno wouldn’t have thought of that on his own. “I like that suggestion. But I have no clue if I’ll have that kind of time. Remember the curse? There’s a possibility I won’t make it.” 

Chenle stared at him for a beat too long to be comfortable. Jeno felt pressured by his gaze, squirming underneath it. "Right." 

"Alright," he said, his smile not quite meeting his eyes. "I'm the only one of Grandfather's descendants who have the strongest affinity for spirits, enough to capture them. To make a job out of it, like Grandfather— I dunno. It feels the same way as my musical talent. Pursuing it just 'cause I could. I don't want that." 

Jeno drew two uneven intersecting circles in the air with his finger. “Let’s say this is the Venn Diagram of jobs. This side would be things you have an aptitude for, the other side would be the things you enjoy. Whatever meets in the middle—” A wry grin. “—is what we want. What are the chances we’d land a job like that?”

“It’s not that I don’t enjoy my hobby,” said Chenle in protest. 

Suddenly the rain picked up again, no longer drizzling, rather, a slower, heavier pour, coating their view of the neighbourhood in a translucent fog. 

“Is it even viable as a job? It doesn’t sound very sensible. Maybe it would have worked back in the past, like my grandfather’s time, but I don’t like the idea of being at someone’s beck and call.”

“Even if you worked an office job, you’d still be at someone’s beck and call, remember?” Jeno shifted, further away from the steadily intensifying downpour. He was worried there would be thunder. He looked at Chenle, but the younger boy showed no sign of wanting to return to the house. 

Chenle seemed fascinated by the droplets falling from the sky, blurring together as they ran off the railing in a steady trail. “You’re right,” he said finally. “I guess I’m just scared that I only like it ‘cause I’m capable of doing it. I don’t want a repeat of what happened when I was younger. Now that I think about it, ghostbusting and being a musical prodigy are quite different things, aren’t they?” 

He got up, offering a hand to Jeno. “You should go in and change your clothes. What if you catch a cold?”

Once they had cleaned up and returned to Chenle’s room, it was all white for a moment before a loud cry of thunder. It illuminated his face before falling into darkness again. Jeno saw Chenle’s face scrunch up, terrified. 

Another roar and Chenle had buried his face into Jeno’s shoulder. 

If his heart beat any harder, it would probably come out of his chest, still in one piece, rising and falling. He tried to comfort Chenle, but the younger boy was already acquiescing into a state of unnaturally steady calmness. 

Chenle took in a deep breath. Jeno’s hand awkwardly hovered over Chenle’s head, then he gave in to his instinct, brushing his hair in what he hoped was comforting. “Your hair feels like straw,” he told Chenle.

Letting out a laugh, Chenle sank deeper into a relaxing position. “Bleaching does that,” he said, grabbing at Jeno’s own dark locks. “Not that you’d know, you boring old man.”

“I’d prefer not to start balding before the age of twenty-five, thanks,” retorted Jeno, gently pushing Chenle away. “Are you gonna sleep or not?”

Chenle wiggled away, slipping under the covers. “Maybe not. Do you want to hear the next part of my plan in detail? It’s ambitious, but I’m sure you can handle it. It’s for your sake after all.”

It came back to Jeno all at once: why he was here, what their goal was, why he had to resort to such means, what was in him. His heart sank like a stone, heavy and suffocating at the bottom of his chest. He blinked gingerly at Chenle. He was only feeling sleepy and sated minutes ago. Now he was drowning in his misery again. If he hadn’t been cursed he wouldn’t be here. He wouldn’t have joined the committee. He wouldn’t be curling up with Chenle on an early Saturday morning. Chenle wouldn’t have shown up at Jeno’s house in the morning, with salmon sandwiches that still tasted fresh, never have invited a warmth that made his toes curl, never would have picked up those cookbooks—

He wouldn’t have done anything if he hadn’t been cursed, would he… he have done anything? Life would be the same, and he wouldn’t know what he was missing. He wouldn’t know what kind of person Chenle was; he wouldn’t have gotten an idea of his future career. 

“Jeno? You there?”

“Do tell,” said Jeno, moving closer to Chenle, the boy he liked who also happened to have a girlfriend. He was having an existential crisis at ass 'o'clock in the morning. Fun.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A nightmare to edit while I was hungry but I really loved the jenle in here...!


	21. Chapter 21

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> like a prayer for which no words exist, and you feel your heart taking root in your body,

When Jeno was five years old, he had a fear of policemen. It was an irrational fear that he might get arrested. Which made absolutely no sense, but hey, fears never made sense. 

As the bus rounded the corner and the resident police station rolled into view, Jeno wondered if he was still scared of them. 

Since it was a cold case, Chenle said that they would probably have a case file for it. They would simply approach the front desk, and ask if they could have it. It was so absurdly simple and straight to the point that it was surely going to fail, Jeno reasoned. They would say it was for a school project.

He must have been standing there too long because Chenle slid his hand over his wrist. Jeno nearly jumped in surprise. “Your pulse is fluttering like mad! Calm down.”

Mustering a strangled smile, Jeno smoothed out the non-existent wrinkles out of his white sweater, a gesture that gave him a sense of normalcy. “Thanks.”

Over the past fifty years, there had not been any change in the number of law enforcement buildings in the area. During the time of the incident, all criminal cases would have been handed to the local police station, regardless of whether it was a case of petty theft or a grisly homicide. The case they were investigating in detail was an incredibly shocking one, especially of its time. 

In the years after the Korean War, any crime as horrific as this one would have been unsettling, but there was a concerning lack of information for something that ought to be a stain. Since no identities were revealed, there were no calls to reopen the case and it would have been left untouched for the next half a century. At least, that was what Chenle had said. 

They slipped out of the bus, entering a relatively quiet police station. No crime in the morning, of course, Jeno thought ruefully. There was a lady at the counter, sitting up at the sound of the bells on the door handle, clicking against the glass. 

“What can I do for you today?” 

“We’re a part of an unofficial Real Murders Club in my class,” said Chenle casually. “We usually investigate foreign cases, like those in America. Recently my grandfather told me about a murder-suicide that was a cold case back in the fifties, in the neighbourhood nearby. I thought me and my friend could photocopy the case file? If it’s still around.”

She drew her eyebrows together, contemplative. “An odd request. Can’t say I’ve heard of one of these before. Give me a moment.” And she descended upon the old black telephone, punching in a couple of numbers. 

The two of them stood together against the wall as she talked. “Hey, you’re a pretty good liar,” said Jeno, bumping his shoulder playfully into Chenle’s. 

“I can be when I want to,” said Chenle. There was the sound of heavy footsteps, leather-clad feet— both of their heads swivelled over to peer at the new entrant in the lobby, a tall and imposing policeman in fine-pressed uniform. Jeno swallowed, kneading at his hands nervously upon seeing him. 

They were whisked away to talk. The level of caution the man exercised was understandable; they were asked about their intentions and the incident in detail. They talked until their mouths ran dry, answering each question with a mix of lie and half-truths. Chenle didn’t seem to bat an eye, while Jeno kept fretting over whether any nervous tics were showing. 

Finally, the man leaned back in his chair, gazing at them carefully. “That incident has faded into obscurity,” he said. Without being aware of it, Jeno had been holding his breath, tense and waiting at the possible outcome. “You could check the basement, but there’s no guarantee you’ll find what you’re looking for.”

He deflated. The answer wasn’t exactly what they were looking for, and it certainly didn’t do anything to lift their spirits, but Chenle was nodding excitedly, rocking back and forth on his feet, already antsy. “Thank you, sir. Lead the way, please.”

There was a tiny gray door behind a bookshelf. As they passed by, a few heads turned, curious at why two teenage boys would be in the station. Jeno kept closely behind Chenle, a hand hanging onto his sleeve as they were taken down a flight of stairs. 

“I’ll stay here until you’re done. Don’t do any funny business, boys,” he said, ushering them down and flicking on a light switch. There was a single light bulb hung from a long metal rod from the ceiling that flickered for a bit before properly lighting up. 

At the bottom was a cupboard with plenty of drawers. There was a fine sheen of dust covering everything. Cautiously, Jeno pulled one open with a series of brown files inside. They looked recent, so he pulled out a couple more drawers in rapid succession, some containing books, some containing thick binders marked with years that date back all the way to 1997. 

They were already used to searching through archives, but the presence of the policeman hung over them like a dark cloud. They were buying in on someone else’s time. Jeno could feel his arms starting to flag, but Chenle continued rummaging through the flies nimbly. Unfortunately, most of them weren’t even for the right crime. 

“This is impossible,” Jeno complained. “You would think that they’d sort the flies by the type of offense at the very least.”

“Well, some of these cases were from forty years back. We haven’t found any cold cases yet,” said Chenle pointedly. He made it a point to put back the contents of every drawer after he finished going through it. It was very stuffy inside, probably from poor ventilation. “The one we’re looking for was back in 1959. That’s around sixty years ago!”

“Boys! I have work to do,” thundered from upstairs. “Are you any close to leaving?” His choice of words was telling. He expected them to fail. 

That spurred Chenle on to look more carefully and efficiently, sweeping up documents with an indefatigable hand. To possess the same kind of temerity Chenle currently possessed seemed near impossible. Eventually, Jeno’s neck started hurting from hunching over, and he winced as he rubbed at it. 

“I don’t think we’re going to find anything,” he said honestly. 

Chenle looked close to defeated as well. They shared a resigned nod. Unlike Jeno, Chenle hadn’t bothered to clean up after himself so he could go through the archives at a faster rate. They gathered everything together in silence, methodically slotting things back into place and exchanging the occasional question. 

As Jeno bent down to retrieve a file that had ended up underneath a shelf, he spotted a rusty file squeezed between two cupboards. Curious, he gave it a light shove, pulling the parchment from it. Time had eaten away at the file, the metal paper clip holding it together showing signs of severe rusting. “I think I found something!” 

Chenle clambered over to him. They flipped it open. He didn’t bother going through the scant file, rather, Jeno’s eyes latched onto the tiny, yellowed portrait clipped to the corner. 

A pale face, big eyes, a high, straight nose and full lips. Jeno sucked a sharp breath through gritted teeth. 

The ghost of Renjun’s attic, neither ghostly nor washed out, stared back at Jeno.

It was extremely disconcerting to realise that at some point in time, she was a living, breathing person, with a name and face, that she hadn’t always been a spirit, hovering indefinitely in someone’s attic. 

“The case was open for only three months before it was closed,” Chenle read aloud. 

From Jeno’s stunned silence, Chenle took his cue and went to request to use a photocopier to take a copy home. 

__

“Irene Young,” said Jeno thoughtfully, nibbling at the other end of his pencil. The name resonated in him with an alarming familiarity he simply couldn’t pinpoint. “Isn’t it odd she doesn’t have a Korean name? She is a Korean citizen after all.”

On the way back they had decided to have lunch at a station, Chenle bringing him to a Japanese chain restaurant to grab a quick beef bowl. Jeno wasn’t accustomed to reading at the table, so he had finished his food first before going over the file. 

The details were scant, and worryingly so. There had been a lack of eyewitnesses. No autopsy carried out either. The paper in it was so yellow and dry, when he brushed it away with too much force, it would make a loud crunching noise. According to the report, it said that there had been a knife in the man’s neck, a blade with jagged edges. 

“Do they say more about Irene?” asked Chenle. Jeno flipped to the last page. 

“She had a daughter she named Anastasia. Anastasia Tiffany Young. Sounds prissy? A year old back then. Whoever was investigating this wrote next to her status as a divorcee, ‘She’s pretty, too bad she was a bitter old woman,’ what the hell?” The younger boy made a choked noise, snatching it away to see for himself. “We just need to see which familial relation she values most?”

“If this was a cold case, it was probably closed because of the incompetence of the investigators,” said Chenle dryly, brandishing the file as if it contained crucial evidence. Technically it was because this was what they could get for a case from years and years ago. “Don’t think they would be very keen on investigating a case involving a bitter old woman, so they say.”

“Jeno, I also need an object of hers.” At Jeno’s loud, punctuated groan of despair, Chenle rubbed at his temples. “I know. It’s going to be difficult, but we can’t have any no ifs or buts, your life's on the line—”

 _Or you could just tell me you loved me, or something, and this would all be settled. But it wouldn’t be fair to you, now would it?_

“It sounds damn near impossible,” Jeno grumbled. He had been frustrated by this but this turn of events made him really grouchy. Thinking about talking to more people, searching for things again… it was necessary, sure, still a horrible pain in the neck, though.

“It has her address. We should go later. We still have time,” said Chenle, wiping at his mouth with a tissue and getting up. More travelling on a weekend. Sounded terrible. 

Modernisation truly left its mark. As expected when they keyed in said address into Google Maps, it was no longer a place of residency. In fact, it was a part of land used for a shopping mall built upon it. A quick search on the internet told them that it was located close to an older part of town.

“She had dual American membership. She does have a Korean name— Joohyun.” 

“She just ended up calling her daughter an English name,” Chenle said. The concept of people having middle names was a strange one to Jeno. One name was enough, but clearly, people in Europe and America thought otherwise. “They also wrote here that Anastasia was born out of wedlock.”

“Isn’t it strange that she didn’t give her daughter a Korean name as well? I mean she stayed here for a long time, so it doesn’t make sense. She would raise Anastasia here.” Jeno mulled over his words. It did seem strange. 

“Doesn’t the name Anastasia mean ‘new beginnings?’ What if she was planning to move back to America?” asked Jeno. It made sense; even now the stigma against single mothers had hardly faded, even in the modern age, how much worse would it have been back then? Divorce would be a stain on a woman’s reputation. Although he doubted that the attitude towards divorcees in the USA in the fifties would have differed in the past, it could have been a home away from home. 

“That actually makes so much sense,” Chenle had mused as they shuffled into another train. 

There was a tall white house on a hill, a sight Jeno had never seen before. Perhaps he was getting too used to stretches and stretches of townhouses. It was close to the place where the shopping mall was. Overgrowths of plants had swathed the hill, covering what was left of an old metal gate in adroit curls. Hesitantly, Jeno pushed it open with a loud, unpleasant squeak. 

“I have a bad feeling we'll be entering another haunted house,” said Jeno, holding the two sides of his unzipped windbreaker together as a bitter gust of wind passed by. As the house came closer into view, he noticed the many vines crisscrossing over the outer walls. There was a musty smell. 

“It looks abandoned,” Chenle remarked. 

In order to get up, they had to keep moving forward multiple steps at a time, lest gravity caught up with them, and sent them tumbling down, so it had been one continuous climb without stopping. 

Chenle had paused halfway up. He dug his heels into the dirt, shoulders tightly wound together. “I could see why they wouldn’t reclaim this place for land reclamation. It’s on a freakin’ hill!” 

Unlike Chenle, Jeno didn’t stop, not even once. He raced up, breathing in the brittle taste of the air, hands deep in his pockets. It wasn’t a _hanok_ house, in fact, it was far from it. It was a charming structure with multiple intricately carved poles which made up the house. It looked like it hadn’t been lived in for years. 

There was a beautiful mausoleum surrounded by overgrown trees farther out in the garden. Jeno ran to it, standing underneath it and looked up. There were a series of branches in disarray skywards. He could imagine how it would have looked when the estate had been well-cared for, with a few slim branches delicately framing the view. 

“There’s a garden,” Jeno said. “Maybe it’s cared for, but nobody’s living here.”

They heard footsteps. Alarmed and at a loss of what to do, they stood there dumbly like sitting ducks. An elderly woman was skulking about, standing ramrod straight, vigilant and alert. “I won’t let you two troublemakers leave even a hair here out of place,” the voice rang out tightly. 

“The caretaker?” he mouthed to Chenle silently. What were they going to do? Would they get in trouble? It wasn’t like the elderly woman could do much— physically they had an advantage over her, not that they would tackle her, or anything— they could easily outrun her and she would be none the wiser. Many things could go wrong, though. What if, in her attempt to chase them, she fell over? 

He stepped into view slowly, raising his arms in surrender. “Auntie,” he said placatingly. She rounded a fierce glare at him as she wielded her cane like a sword, almost, a fire in her he recognised as determination. She must have cared deeply for the place, to defend it with such loyalty. “We’re here not to vandalise anything. I came here with my friend, we’re looking for something.”

Narrowing her eyes, the woman’s gaze flickered as she gave Jeno a once-over. He hoped his sweater didn’t look too ruffled. Because of his newly grown horns, he had put on a dark grey beanie which at first glance didn’t seem too out of place, but dressing in dark colours could make the wrong impression. Looking like some neighbourhood gangster was the worst thing he could do. 

“Why are you here?” Her voice was tinged with an edge of caution. There was a short pause. Jeno inwardly let out a sigh of relief. 

“We’re investigating a case involving a woman named Irene Young. It’s not official, just some school project. We find it fishy how it was declared a cold case after only three months,” Jeno said. Her stance changed, her raised eyebrows giving her surprise away. “Is this where the Young family lived?”

“Yes,” she answered readily. It took a moment for her tongue to start working again, mouth slightly agape. Chenle was now standing close to him, hot breath fanning on his neck. 

“I was the daughter of the caretaker of this house. Miss Joohyun was married young when she left, but even after her divorce she did not return.”

“Is it alright if I ask you a few questions, Auntie? We should go somewhere, sit down, I’m afraid there will be mosquitos out and about,” Chenle said, offering her his arm. The whole matter appeared to be as bewildering to them as it was to her. 

At the end of the hill there they sat, a small hut Jeno guessed would have functioned as a shed. The elderly woman, conflicted in both her thoughts and her actions, had crossed her arms over her chest, stern and curious at the same time. 

“Forgive me for my reticent attitude,” she said. She spoke in a mix of formal and informal wording, her inflections were barely there, sentences coming out as longer mumbles; it was very odd. 

“As a young woman, I was entrusted with this estate. Miss Minyoung had left for America with Miss Joohyun’s child, the last I heard of her. I will admit that I am shocked that you are investigating this, after so long, sixty or so years, give or take, for Miss Joohyun, may God bless her soul.” She took out a silk handkerchief and pressed it at the corners of her wrinkled eyes which were sparkling with unshed tears. 

“I was a little girl when she had been married. She was very kind to me, she always gave hot pastries to eat from her own portion. She came over to the house to see Miss Minyoung as often as she could, gentle as a butterfly, she was. Sure, she looked slightly weathered, but how could a delicate woman like her possibly murder someone else? She had her daughter to live for. Even now, I’ve harboured my doubts.” She blew her nose noisily, making a sound which was some cross of a honk and a squeak. 

In all honesty, Jeno had expected stilted answers from her, so the torrent of words that had come out unprompted startled him. Maybe this was the result of a fifty year long pent up frustration. Bottling things up never served any good after all. At least she would be able to tell someone, namely, him and Chenle. They weren’t solving the case, they only needed an item of hers, so technically… they were lying to her for their own important reasons, but it still made Jeno feel guilty. 

“She was married? Was her daughter born from her husband?” He looked at Chenle questioningly. Her daughter had her mother’s surname, yes, however they weren’t sure about this part. Jeno didn’t understand. How was this relevant?

She dipped her head. “She told me it was not the case. She had told her in-laws this as well, but they didn’t believe her, of course. The family she was married into were a rotten lot, despite their money. Miss Joohyun said they treated her poorly. Over the years she had multiple miscarriages. They had insisted something was wrong with her.” She crumpled her nose up in distaste as she spoke. “Then she bore a healthy child after the divorce. There must have been something terribly wrong with her ex-husband! Thankfully the Gims went bankrupt. Nasty bunch of people.” 

For the past few minutes, Chenle had been drumming his fingers against his thigh. He got up abruptly. “Thank you, Auntie, we’ve taken up an awful lot of your time, we ought to get going now,” he said briskly.

Jeno was taken aback. He had a lot to ask that would be left unsaid, so he made incoherent sputtering sounds as Chenle guided the elderly woman down the hill, the paragon of polite, respectful, youthful gaiety. That meant Jeno had to lag behind. 

It also gave him plenty of time to brood by himself, coming up with a lot of lovely vulgarities to hurl at Chenle. He couldn’t help it. He was irrationally angry. They had stumbled upon a case full of irregularities!

The possibility of bribery hovered in Jeno’s mind. As much as the ghost had troubled him, knowing about this injustice and doing nothing to correct it didn’t sit right with him. 

When they returned to the train station, Jeno was brimming with plenty of words to say. 

“Chenle, why did you cut her off? She still had a lot to tell us! We could have found out more about what happened to Irene,” said Jeno, speeding up his pace to match Chenle’s faster footsteps. 

Chenle rolled his eyes, but his heart wasn’t into it. He wasn’t taking him seriously, Jeno thought with a flash of irritation. “Don’t you remember? We need her name, the familial relation she values herself the most, and a possession of hers. Clearly, the woman isn’t going to give any necessary information to find any of Irene’s things. We didn’t come here to do a therapy session,” he said sharply. 

Why was Jeno shocked that Chenle could be cunning too? Nobody was all sunshine and rainbows, all soft and squishy. It was how he would have been able to carry out his difficult hobby alone. He would have done his investigative work by himself. Yet Jeno couldn’t help the surge of anger that rose up in his chest as he got to know this part of Chenle that was self-preserving and goal-orientated. 

“Even so, I still want to find out the truth behind her death, so she can truly rest in peace. People remember her as a murderer and a coward. We could do something about this!” urged Jeno, aggressively gesturing with his hands. “Doesn’t this mean anything to you?”

Chenle’s face was flushed such an exasperated red that Jeno was sure steam would start billowing out his ears. “You will succumb to the curse in a week’s time! You have no time to be altruistic!”

“I can’t control the way I feel,” said Jeno. “I _know_ the case is fishy, I suspect bribery if you ask me. We could bring the case back to light, and although it might be more work, it’ll be worth it to help someone.”

“Might I remind you that the said someone is _dead_? Keep your priorities straight, Jen, we only have a week to find the object before something terrible happens to you! You’ve been particularly evasive regarding the details of the curse, but I haven’t said a word about it! If you’re not going to be truthful with me, at least be cooperative!”

The tips of Jeno’s ears were quickly burning red with exertion. “You’re a selfish idiot.”

“And you’re a righteous idiot with no care or concern for yourself,” Chenle bit back. Jeno winced. “I should just leave you behind.”

He saw red. 

Chenle could do whatever he wanted! It wasn’t like he wasn’t already ruining Jeno’s life by existing anyways! Chenle was never going to like him back, let alone confess to him. What was the point? 

“Are you going to run back to Soso? Go do something fun with her instead. You’d like that, won’t you? Besides, whenever I was around you two, I was the third wheel. May as well get rid of me entirely!”

“For your information,” Chenle’s voice was frost cold, all hard edges and barbed wire, “I broke up with her because we weren’t spending enough time together. Because I was _with you._ ” His words were so tight, but he wasn’t finished yet. 

Shit. The one thing he didn’t want to do, to break up two people— he let his animosity towards Soso’s relationship with Chenle pollute his words, to colour them black— he still managed to break them inadvertently because he was a walking disaster, that he was— couldn’t even shut his mouth, that was why he got cursed in the first place, dammit. 

“I’m sorry,” said Jeno feebly. 

“You’re messing up my whole life, Jeno!” Chenle shouted, his tone so rigid yet splintering at the edges, as if Jeno’s words had cut him deep and caused him pain. He turned away, head hung low. “Take a taxi home. I don’t think I can bear to share a train ride with you all the way back.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA merry crisis!


	22. Chapter 22

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Peel off the napkin 
> 
> O my enemy. 
> 
> Do I terrify?——

_”You think someone’s coming to kill you,” Tiffany repeated, disbelief apparent in her voice. “When that happens, what do you want to do?_

_“Take care of my Ana. If anything goes wrong. You know I would die for her.”_

_“Motherhood has changed you,” she said sadly. “I will do what you wish, but please remember it will pain me to do so.”_

It was like she was falling, falling back into her body with an electric jolt. She got up, scrabbling, she was in a room that was not hers, why was she here, the blanket was too heavy and thick around her ankles—

He remembered his name and who he was. Pained, he rubbed at his legs, which were positively throbbing. His eyes were streaming tears, grief like an overwhelming ache gaping open in his chest. 

The sun was just starting to dawn in the sky. It must have been around 7 am. Would Renjun be awake? Jeno reached out for his phone on the bedside drawer, the bright screen causing him to flinch. Almost on instinct, he swiped through his contacts. 

“You’re awake,” said Jeno. 

A snort on the other side of the phone. “You woke me up.”

“Sorry.”

“Couldn’t sleep?”

“No,” he said. “Had a bad dream. Can’t remember. It was so strange.”

His friend’s voice was washed out, faded and indistinct, gently prodding. He had a nice tenor, Jeno thought blankly. “Can you tell me about it?”

“I can tell when I have a dream because it hurts all over when I wake up. I couldn’t remember my name, how odd is that?”

“Very odd,” said Renjun wisely. “But not unusual.”

__

They met outside the school gate. Renjun waited for Jeno before they strolled in together, sitting in the canteen, buying food from the only stall open in the morning. Yeji was scribbling in her chemistry workbook as usual. They had that class today. Chenle would be there. 

“Yeji,” he said. She turned around, but she looked less frenetic. That would be because of the constant studying sessions, he reminded himself. They hadn’t met up to study at all the past week, not even video calls. Thankfully she seemed to have a better grasp on her basics, so she wasn’t exactly scrambling for leverage. 

“Jeno,” she said cordially, pushing her notebook aside. He wondered how she felt about his and Chenle’s absence during the rehearsal. Perhaps he ought to ask her.

He rubbed the back of his neck. “We should start decorating, shouldn’t we? I’ve made a lot of paper mache skulls in various colours. It looks really cool when I put a fake candle inside. I have a bunch from when my brother volunteered to help out for Christmas mass and they used fake candles, so we have enough... if you’d agree to it,” he said. 

“Good idea. Don’t you have your rehearsal though? After soccer?” she asked. 

“I’m not going. Won’t you need help to decorate?” He mustered what he hoped was a convincing enough smile at her. He had forgotten why she had despised him in the first place; Yeji hated it when he was mollifying, especially whenever he forgot to bring his homework. It used to drive her mad. 

She squinted at him. “Do you take me for an idiot? Why are you missing rehearsal? Are you scared of messing up? I admit - I didn’t take your ego to be a fragile one.”

“I am a coward,” Jeno said half-heartedly with a nod. “I’m just running away from my problems, that’s all.”

“I can vibe with that. Alright! See you later.”

Renjun returned from the stall, cheeks stuffed with cheese meatballs, shoulders brushing by Yeji’s as he joined Jeno. He gave Jeno a quizzical glance. “I didn’t know you two actually got along.”

“We have a mutual understanding of each other,” Jeno said and left it at that. 

At some point in time, Chenle was in the canteen as well, a tinge of purple under his eyes as if he hadn’t slept all night. Their eyes met for a moment; Jeno could have been looking into a mirror. He averted his gaze. 

_’You’re messing up my life,’_ Chenle had said. 

_’You’re ruining my life just by existing,’_ Jeno had thought. 

The parallels were striking. It was as if someone had connected his brain to a loudspeaker. Hearing his thoughts repeated back to him had been startling. It wasn’t fair to Jeno. He had no control over the way he made Chenle feel, actually, now that he thought about it, it was the same thing with the curse. Still, whatever the younger boy was experiencing wouldn’t even hold a candle to what Jeno was feeling. 

That didn’t stop him from feeling like he had been punched in the gut, however. Two of them could play at that game, he thought wryly, snapping a toothpick into half. 

__

Unfortunately, Chenle would not deal with things the same way Renjun does. Jeno found this out the hard way. 

The gym was quite a big space. Jeno and Yeji had to set up the tables for food. They weren’t exactly sure how many they needed, so they spent a significant portion of time fumbling around with foldable chairs. 

There might have been a fall here and there— a metal chair leg had knocked Jeno’s shin, leaving a mark that was sure to bruise— Yeji was muttering something about boys and not using deodorant under her breath the whole while. 

Tentatively, they had left a couple of chairs in the corner and started on the decorations. It was more of trial and error, really. They had to string up a couple of things; if it fit, they would leave it. 

He wasn’t entirely there in spirit, nibbling nervously on his nails - something he hadn’t done in years. Would Chenle confront him for missing rehearsals? 

It was getting late. Jeno was locking up the place because they didn’t want any troublemakers coming in and trashing their progress. He was finishing up when he heard someone thundering down the hallway. 

There he was, Chenle, a bull in a China shop. 

“Who do you think you— aren’t you supposed to be the responsible one!” Chenle yelled. 

When Chenle was mad, there were never any question marks, there were only exclamation marks, Jeno thought brusquely.

“I didn’t expect you to do such a thing!”

Jeno could have laughed at the incredulity of it all. “You expect me to be in the same space as you and your ex! Whose relationship dissolved due to my meddling! Sure! Sure! Be that way, be mature.”

Then he fled because Jeno was a _hypocritical coward._

__

He should have been in school when he practiced, with Chenle by his side. 

Instead, he was sitting on his own, on the edge of his chair, trying to play some stupid melody on the guitar— on the other side of the phone, on video call, there was Jaemin, holding up playback of the same song in piano.

He would have avoided playing the instrument in its entirety if he could help it, but he had just got the statistics from Yeji regarding the number of tickets sold for the night. 

She said there would be a hundred and forty people. The past years the dance committee had been run by troublemaking students for extra credit, so the event didn’t have much of a reputation. Therefore the fact that they had surpassed the average number of attendees by _a hundred people_ was shocking. 

Not to mention he would be performing in front of… a hundred and forty people who went to school with him— the quiet, openly gay soccer kid; it was quite daunting, said in his own words. If he royally screwed up tonight, he might end up a laughingstock, something he definitely didn’t want, even if he would forget all about it when he turned into a monster that night. 

He would become a monster in approximately five days. 

It hadn’t fully settled in yet. 

And he had to collaborate with Chenle; for both the rehearsal and to find one of Irene’s possessions, but since he loved running away, he was doing neither. It felt as if his relationship with him was trapped in suspension. 

“We’ve been at this for an hour,” said Jaemin. “Do you want to take a break? Eat a snack, drink some water?”

Admittedly, it was getting more difficult to concentrate than ever before. In a bid to distract himself, he had poured all of his energy into trying to nail a tune. Now waves of uncomfortable aches ebbing and gnawing at his attention span.

He licked the dry roof of his mouth. “You’re right. I’ve just noticed how hungry I am. Should I just cook for myself? It'll be quick.”

His friend rolled his eyes good-naturedly. “Only you could make cooking quick.”

“I’m not the one who struggles with keeping the yolk intact when I break eggs,” Jeno said. 

“Touché. Now go.”

The fridge was unusually bare. Jeno supposed it was due to his times in the kitchen the last few days; he had returned to methodical cooking rituals to unwind. 

(He needed to unwind. Constantly. All the time if he could.) .

“Didn’t you just have a glass of milk this morning? _And_ kimchi? It’ll make your stomach feel funny.” 

“That’s the point,” Jeno said. And he ate another mouthful of kimchi for good measure, smiling at Jaemin open-mouthed. 

“Ew,” groaned Jaemin. “I do not want to see the inside of your mouth, thank you very much.”

Jeno was suddenly hit by a wave of tiredness. He blinked his dry eyes. 

“Sometimes I forget not everyone knows me as well as you two,” he said. He didn’t want to jump back into practising right away. He didn’t even know why he was bringing it up— but he couldn’t sleep, he had been thinking about what happened the other day. 

“The other day I was arguing with Chenle.”

“Oh? Lover’s spat?” Jaemin did a strange wiggle, but he wasn't laughing. Probably because of the serious look crossing Jeno’s face. 

“No. We didn’t see eye to eye, then we started arguing,” he said absently, rubbing the inside of his palm against the headstock of the guitar. “I skipped rehearsal to try and avoid him... which was pointless because he came over to confront me.”

Jaemin cocked his head, almost as a challenge. “And how do you think he would take it?”

Oh, he wished that he could tell his friend the whole truth. He wouldn’t completely understand like this… well… he could tell him as much as he could, without telling him everything. 

“He broke up with his girlfriend because he was spending too much time with me,” he said. “How was I supposed to look him in the eye after that? Then Renjun suggested I could carry out the plan guilt-free if I wanted. He was joking, of course. But I yelled at him.”

“I would yell at him too. Injun can be an idiot sometimes,” Jaemin said, staring at him, arms crossed. He didn’t say it with any malice.

He would feel that Jeno deserved a tongue-lashing. He knew how his silence came off to Chenle. Avoiding another person like the plague was hardly something complimentary. Besides, Chenle didn’t understand the way he worked, nor would he be able to accept it— 

A beat. 

Jeno could be insensitive. But he wasn’t blissfully ignorant. It was just that he chose to do nothing about it. _Which was_ , his conscience argued, _as good as not knowing_. 

“Are you going to attend the Halloween dance, by the way?” 

“Renjun and I bought tickets once they started selling. Of course, we’ll be there,” said Jaemin, smiling, “We’ll support you all the way, y’know.” His eyes darkened. “Unless whatever you choose isn’t good for you.”

“You’d try to dissuade me, of course. Anyway, we’ve been talking too long. Let’s get back to it...”

__

A pink, frilly fairy costume was held up against his shoulders. “If you can’t decide,” she said playfully, lifting one eyebrow, “You can simply wear my old one.”

“That tiny thing will barely fit me. It’ll strangle my nuts!” At Jeno’s crude expression, Yerim burst into near hysterical tears. She was enjoying this far too much.

Picking a costume with her felt too drawn out. She relished every opportunity to insert some amiable teasing. He would never be able to do the reverse, he thought. Older sibling privileges. 

Yerim put the costume back in her closet, leaning against the wall. She took out a tiny nurse costume off the rack and sighed dramatically. “It would be easier if you were a girl. You could put on some sexy dress and stilettos and a completely unrelated accessory and go, _hey! Look at me! I’m a mouse!_ ”

One of the requirements for the costume was for it to cover a lot of skin. He didn’t tell Yerim that, though. Truthfully, he shouldn’t be fretting over what he would wear. As part of the committee, most of the night he could simply brood, being a sort of chaperon and all. 

Nobody would be looking at him… 

The realisation that he’d have to perform that evening hit him like a truck after a few seconds had passed— people _would_ be able to see! If he wore anything too exposing, they would be able to see the orange fur sprouting from his skin. In all honesty, he had considered taking up Jaemin’s offer of dressing up flamboyantly for the night. His schoolmates would think of them as gay, but, was it a lie, really? But he couldn’t even do that. Jaemin had told him it was essential to leave a couple of buttons open, but now fur had already grown on his chest. 

He could have simply told his sister this, and save both of them the trouble. However, every time he brought up the curse to Yerim, she looked as if she would burst into tears. It was the most frightful thing, to think of her blubbering and sobbing. Jeno could probably count the number of times he had seen her crying with one hand. 

“I would love to go through the rest of your closet with you, but I have to go for now,” he said quickly. 

“Aw, but you just got home from school. Is it urgent? You’re such a busy student.”

“Yeah. Sorry, Yerim,” he said, not feeling sorry in the slightest. He headed to the door. Yerim followed him, waving him goodbye, still looking concerned. 

Today, he was planning to head down to the previous Young Residence, where the elderly lady Mrs Ahn lived. He wanted to learn more about what had happened to Irene. 

It felt foreboding; a constant reminder of what was to come on Halloween Eve. It was as if he was waiting for the guillotine or being led like a sheep to the slaughter. How could he look forward to the dance, knowing what it meant to have the days pass quickly?

Still clutching onto the case file, Jeno walked down the street, glancing around. Near the ends of the land which housed the manor, there was a small traditional house. He supposed this was where Mrs Ahn lived. He tapped his knuckles against the door. Mrs Ahn greeted him with an unreadable expression, letting him sit down on the ratty couch. 

“Where’s your friend?” she asked as she let him in. 

“He’s busy.” There was a strange, dull throb in his chest as spoke. “So I came on his behalf as well.”

It felt bad already to impose on her kindness, to ask her about an incident which had caused so much pain. She had to dismiss her daughter who was visiting into the living room, just to talk to him.

“Is there anyone who could give me more details about the murder? Auntie,” he would say whenever he was trying to coax her to say more.

This was the third time he had pleaded with her. He prayed his sincerity shone through; that this wasn’t just for laughs, or to invalidate what she had gone through. Mrs Ahn’s face sundered through a gamut of emotions he couldn’t recognise, as they had flashed across so quickly, like pictures on a projector. Did she feel that telling him about the family would be a betrayal? 

When she spoke up, her voice was wobbly. “Miss Minyoung has long been dead, and wherever she went, Miss Joohyun’s daughter went with her. Even so, I doubt her daughter would have known what happened to Miss Joohyun.” Suddenly, she appeared resolute in her actions as she got up and with great difficulty, she bent down to pull open a drawer from a tiny wooden dresser. “I only have this.”

There was an old diary inside, pink and sleek. The pages were very yellowed and it smelled a bit like his grandmother’s perfume. 

“Be careful with it,” she had said, eyes a little shiny. “I have never been able to read it completely as half of it is written in English.”

“Don’t worry,” Jeno said, feeling hollow, “I can read some English, I’ll tell you what she wrote once I’m done with it.”

__

He was halfway through his English homework when he remembered he would be a monster in less than four days. If he was a monster, he wouldn’t be going to school for sure. Maybe he simply wanted an excuse to stay at home for days on end. He missed going out with his friends on Saturdays. Everything felt so messed up. 

His head was aching as he reached for the diary in his bag. He flipped open to the first page.

Miss Minyoung must have been an adult when she had started writing in it, but it read _’This belongs to Tiffany Young’_ in a fancy English cursive, the kind of writing that eleven year olds used when they began to write in a diary in American films. It was so muddled, he couldn't read all the words. 

She wrote in a thick black pen. It had left indentations in the paper he could swipe over with a thumb - it felt nice under his skin. This must have been Irene’s sister. Irene’s daughter had been named Anastasia Tiffany. They must have been close to give Anastasia her sister's name. 

The entries in the book were written from 1955 to 1956. It was a perfect fit for the time frame when Irene had died. He wanted to flip directly to the entries written closer to the day of the incident, but he also wished to know more about what she had thought of her sister. It hadn’t occurred to him then he had been flipping through a dead woman’s diary without a care in the world. It was a morbid fascination, it seemed. 

_From the start. I want to see what Tiffany wrote about Irene._

The first few entries were as uneventful, discussing day-to-day activities. Once in a while, there would be an entry that was particularly long-winded, usually entirely written in English. He didn’t understand everything. He traced his finger over the words he knew, ‘cruel’, ‘bastard’, ‘horrible,’ the adverbs, the in-betweens. It must have been a rant. Most of them so far were nothing special.

Then he flipped to an entry dated _February 5th, 1956._

 _Dear Diary,_

_Joohyun came to me first thing in the morning. She said, “I think they’re going to kill me.”_

_It has been no secret that her previous in-laws have tolerated her at best. It was a terrible mistake, letting her get married like that. I thought her finally leaving the family would spell the end of it all. Well, it sounds like they want her to end, in the most literal way._

_Sorry. I shouldn’t have joked about it. But it feels like it is a good method to cope. Knowing that she might die, I mean. She had Ana propped up on her hip as we talked. Normally we’re all smiles when she’s around, but we just kept looking at each other grimly. She told me she knew they were going to send someone to kill her any day, so we had to make a plan on what to do if she really died._

_She’s too young to die! Ana is too little to be an orphan. I’m too young to lose a sister. She’s already accepted it, I can tell. She had this dark look in her eyes._

_If anything happens to her, she said she would get her neighbour to bring her child to me. She told me to think about packing my bags, to take Ana to America right away. I told her I don’t know how to care for children, that I’m not prepared to lose her. It was like she was the elder sister at that moment: she told me she was already prepared for what was to come, so by proxy, I would have to be too._

_I had thought about consulting the authorities, but then I remembered the police would turn a blind eye if she died. Give them any sum of money and they’ll do what you want. Their morals are lacking, and they'll give up everything, even their pride, just for a bit of money. Abhorrent swines!_

_**I have never hated a group of people more in my entire life.** Them burning in hell is not enough. They have to be skinned alive, over and over. Only when they have their youth forcibly taken from them then they will understand what Joohyun had gone through because of them. _

_Joohyun does not have a difficult life because of God as they say. It is because of them. The only mistake she made was to believe that the family she married into would accept her as their own._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> LMAO I was going to edit more today, but, I slept most of the day, yup, that's Christmas hahahahahahha. I'm outside rn christmas shopping but I'm editing on my phone...


	23. Chapter 23

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I’m always saving  
> and you’re always owing and I’m tired of asking to settle the debt.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tw self-harm reference, mentions of blood

Ever since he had got up, he was grouchy, spitting curses at the things he stumbled over and scowling at his blameless stack of homework. He had to stay up to study as he left his work to the last minute. 

Jeno was going to submit a request to the police station to reopen the case. But that meant he would have to head down to the station in person and he didn’t have the energy for that. 

He had dreamed the night before, he could tell. Everything felt sluggish and he had to drag his feet to the bathroom. Yerim was standing in front of the mirror, massaging some lotion into her face. 

“Move.” He picked up his toothbrush off the tiled floor. “Ugh. Gross, can you even wash a tooth— don’t you have an early morning class?”

“Professor fell ill,” she said absent-mindedly. Her elbows were up in the air, knocking another skincare product into the basin. Jeno scowled so hard the lines on his face looked as if they had been flat-ironed. “Be a dear and pick that up for me, will you?”

“Pick it up yourself. For God’s sake, pick up everything you drop. The next thing I know the entire mirror’s on the floor. I have to keep cleaning up after you.” 

Although he was annoyed, he picked up the bottle anyway. She turned around to take it from him. Upon catching sight of him, she paled instantly. 

“What,” he retorted. “Something on my face?”

She scooped him upwards, hands on his shoulders, steering him gently to look at his reflection.

Orange hair sprouted in thick bunches from his arms, covering every inch of what had been skin. In some cruel imitation of sideburns, fur framed his face. 

It was worse than he had feared. He didn’t even look human anymore. 

His eyelashes were tipped with ginger, disappearing in a bright stripe of sunlight from the tiny bathroom window. When he stared at himself, the pupils of his newly purple eyes constricted sharply into slits. Except for his face, most of his body was covered in fur. 

It would have been funny if he had looked comical. But he just looked like a character from Monsters Inc brought to life, grossly ugly and abnormal. 

“You know, Nono, you never did tell me why you didn’t try to shave it,” she said shakily. She was trying to talk as if it wasn’t a big deal when it truly was. 

“It grows back overnight.” 

“Then you have a day.” 

Thankfully, it didn’t grow too thickly. He marked out the parts of his body which would be hidden by clothes to avoid, sitting down on the toilet seat as he ran over his arms with his mother’s pink razor, inexperienced and clumsy, leaving small red cuts in its wake. He dabbed at them with disinfectant once he was done. 

It didn’t feel right to cut it away, as if he was shearing off an extension of himself. He watched as the hair washed down the drain, certain it would clog if he shaved another day’s worth, but he had to go to school today. He had to leave the finishing touches on the gym. He didn’t want to leave Yeji by herself, so he went. 

__

Renjun was waiting outside with narrowed eyes when he was finished decorating. 

Jeno already knew why he might be here. He would have noticed Jeno’s uneasiness, so they would want to talk about it. Jeno found it extremely disconcerting to even attempt joining in on his friends’ conversations earlier the day. He couldn’t brush it off easily. Renjun meant business. 

“Jen.” Unconsciously, Jeno’s tongue swiped at his dry bottom lip. He was trying to wrack his mind for possible explanations he could give him, afraid Renjun would worry. 

“Hey, Jun,” he said nervously, lifting a hand to run it through his hair. Renjun’s eyes widened, hand flying to catch his wrist firmly. Jeno winced. 

There was a copious amount of hair growing on that part of his arm, where he had shaved the most clumsily. Because of this, he had to wrap his arm in a gauze. It would ache every time it brushed against the inside of his clothes. 

The frightened expression on his face was eerily similar to Yerim’s. They would look good together, Jeno thought dumbly. 

“Jen.” Renjun had a strange calmness in his voice, grasping Jeno’s arm with a tender gentleness, then he cast a quick glance in the direction of the bandages. “You haven’t been talking to me about the curse. It’s probably stressing you out really bad. I know it’s difficult to cope.” Renjun gulped. At that moment he seemed so solemn, so small, lacking his usual edge. “You didn’t—“

“—I didn’t! No, no. It’s not like that.” Jeno snatched his arm away. Renjun visibly deflated, relieved. 

He crossed his arms over his chest. “What happened?”

“I woke up one morning and I had so much fur, I could barely recognise myself. But I had to come down to school to help Yeji. I had to shave it all if I wanted to come back to school for the day,” Jeno said weakly. 

Renjun muttered a particularly poisonous vulgarity under his breath, corners of his mouth pinched. Furious tears were gathered at the corners of his eyes. “Is this really the end?”

“I… I’m figuring it out.” He wasn’t sure if the diary would work, but he wouldn’t know unless he tried. If she loved her sister enough, maybe what was hers would also be Irene’s.

Jeno lurched forward suddenly as Renjun slung his arms over his neck, pulling him down quickly for a tight hug. This was the type of hug his parents would give his siblings before sending them off for long trips; Jeno hadn’t had the chance to receive any, and he didn’t expect one from his best friend. 

They held each other for a while in the corridor, breathing weirdly for a bit, not letting go. Jeno was trying his best not to smear the mascara he had on to cover his orange lashes onto Renjun’s shoulder. 

“You smell like Yerim’s shampoo,” Renjun said.

“And how would you know that, exactly?” He poked Renjun in the cheek teasingly. 

Renjun looked vaguely embarrassed. It was a rare sight. Just two months ago, Renjun had mentioned exchanging messages with Yerim like it was nothing; and now, he was flushing at the mention of her name. His friend had been nursing a crush on his sister and he didn’t even know.

_’Since when?’_ Jeno thought. He had been so wrapped up in his own problems, he hadn’t even noticed the comings and goings of the people he cherished. 

“And you don’t feel weird?” Renjun demanded. “Don’t feel weird that I… I like her?”

“It’s mortifying,” Jeno said honestly. “I hope I’ll see what you do with it. How you deal with the crush, I mean.”

Clearly, it had been the wrong thing to say because Renjun’s face fell completely flat, blank and iron-cast. Jeno panicked. “Shit. Uh. I didn’t mean to phrase it that way. I’m not gonna die. I shouldn’t have said it like that. Sorry.” 

“You’re not going to die,” Renjun said roughly, trying to grapple him into another hug. Jeno couldn’t remember getting this much physical affection in the longest time. 

__

Jeno dreamed he was in a dormitory. 

The tables were lined up next to the start of the bed. Chenle was on a chair, doing homework by his desk in grey pyjamas, and he turned around when he came in. Jeno was so delighted to be back here with him, he leaned forward to kiss the younger boy all over— he kissed one cheek, then another, his eyelids, his button nose— every feature he had traced carefully with his eyes many times over. 

Chenle was laughing in that sweet, relaxed tenor of his, saying, _"I didn’t know you did that, can you do it again?”_ it didn’t sound like anything Chenle would say.

Then he shifted into the green hoodie he had been wearing the day they had argued at the Young Residence, this ghastly, bristling thing, blond strands of hair falling wildly over his face, shouting, _“YOU’RE RUINING EVERYTHING!”_

Jeno did not try to deny it, he lost the feeling in his knees, stumbling to the floor, he sank through… 

His stomach was growling like a beat-up engine when he got up. He yawned, scratching at his stomach with his nails, which made a thin, unpleasant noise against his skin. Puzzled, he held his hand up to the light. 

His nails were absurdly long, fading out to a candy purple colour at the ends. They were more like extensions than his actual nails. He thought about clipping them, but they would probably grow back. 

It was all dark, so he had to run his hands along the wall to get to the kitchen. He cooked himself a helping of eggs. 

“Jeno?” He jumped in his seat. 

“Dad.” He spoke in a bare whisper, terrified that his father would see him in this state. There was an urge to flee, to return to his room. He waited for the sound of his father approaching, but there was none. “Are you sleeping on the couch?”

A low, throaty chuckle. “I got home late.” It was because of his parents’ terrible work-life balance that he had managed to escape their eyes for a while, to hide his current appearance. “How are you feeling?”

Today he hadn’t bothered to shave, so he had missed school. He had simply stuck a thermometer into his mouth and left it on the kitchen table for his family to see. 

Jeno fiddled with his fork. “Tonight’s the Halloween dance, Dad.”

“Ha. The thing we argued over. You’ve been preparing for a long time, haven’t you? I don’t get why you wanted to join.” 

Maybe his head was hollow at this time of night. Maybe he should— maybe, he shouldn’t have... maybe he should… it wouldn’t hurt to say it now, but he would feel everything later. Why did he have to tell people? Why couldn’t they just know, like how people simply accepted the sky was blue because it was there, because it was presumed. 

He felt his mouth move almost on its own. “Can I tell you why I joined?” 

“Sure,” Dad said, confused and barely awake.

“Remember there was a person I was trying to impress? I joined because of them so I could spend more time with them.” Jeno flushed hotly as he recounted it. Was he truly going to do this now? “I gotta tell you something, Dad.” 

“Go ahead.”

He clutched his plate so tight his knuckles could have gone white. “He’s Chinese.”

“Your crush?” Jeno sighed deeply. He ought to defer to the kitchen to wash up and go back to bed. If he left now, maybe his father would pretend nothing had happened. In case Dad would be disgusted, of course… 

“Yes, Dad, I’m gay.” 

At least Dad didn’t sound upset, only curious. Jeno sighed again. “Sorry for unloading a closet full of skeletons on you. It’s too early for this.” 

He shuffled back into bed without letting Dad answer to drown in his sadness. Again. And possibly, falling back into the folds of another dream.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> edited while watching hell's kitchen, all stars. aha aha aha aha  
> fun fact: all of Jeno's terrible sleeping experiences are based off my own experience


	24. Chapter 24

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW! blood, violence, be careful when you read it

This time Jeno was somewhere else. But he wasn’t dreaming. _Everything was very much real._

He was heading down the staircase to bring the blinds down, getting it halfway when he had scratched his hand against a sharp corner of the window frame. He withdrew quickly. 

His hand was small and frail, pale and soft against the flinty darkness outside. He couldn’t reach the top of the window either as he was too short. There was a new lightness on his feet, a soft material brushing against his ankles, the untidy tumble of long, dark hair past his ears and down his shoulders. 

There was a soft cry from upstairs. He hurried his packing. Once Ana woke up, she would never go to sleep. He had to lock the shop door, and quickly. 

There was a noise outside. There was a window he never bothered to close, so he was slightly worried that someone would be there to see him in his thin nightgown. Not some pervert, he hoped. 

Then it struck him. Could it be? Was it time? A cool calmness washed over him, but his heart begged to differ, pounding loudly and threatening to fall into his throat. He had rehearsed it so many times for when things went awry… but he wasn't sure if he was _truly_ ready. 

He went into the nursery. Ana was sleeping peacefully in her cot. Carefully, he scooped her up into his arms, trying not to wake her. He traced a finger over her small face and over the soft shell of her ear. 

He would never get to see Ana grow into her features; to see her fall in love and fumble over a heavy-handed adoration they would share as a family. Placing her gently into a basket, he kissed Ana on the top of her head, burying his nose in her hair and inhaling her sweet-smelling baby scent. 

He bent down to pull a thick rope from under the bed, tying it securely to the handle. It took him a while, though, as his hands were shaking badly despite numerous rehearsals, slick with sweat. Taking one end, he tied it to a heavy table leg, hooking the other end of the rope to the handle of the window. 

Slowly and deliberately, he lowered Ana out of the window, out of sight, letting go once he heard a muffled thump. Then he rang up his neighbour, leaving a voice message to go and retrieve Ana from the back garden. 

Now, Ana was nowhere in sight. Hopefully, Mrs Park would already be on her way to Tiffany’s house to deliver his baby out of danger. He wasn’t sure how he should confront the man sent to kill her. He had only thought of how to get Ana away with no consideration of what would happen to himself. But his baby needed a parent. He would never forgive himself if he didn’t try wrestling with his fate. 

He went to the kitchen. From the bottom of his cutlery drawer, he removed a small knife that had been sharpened many times over; it was a segregated blade wrapped in Ana’s old baby blanket. He slipped it into the waistband of his shorts before leaving the house through the shop’s back door. 

Nobody there. He let out a gasp of relief. 

On the way out he had impulsively grabbed a lighter, not sure what to do with it. If he needed it, he would be able to set his assailant on fire. He sneaked past the corner of the building, silently inspecting the front of the store.

A tall man dressed in black was glancing around, clearly waiting for something. Then he forced the door open and shrank inside. He didn’t know Jeno wasn’t there. This could be his opportunity to escape. 

Still barefoot, he skidded down the path behind the houses, not sure where he was going. 

It hurt to run with all the sharp pebbles digging into the base of his feet. He was almost at the bus stop when he heard a shuttering sound. Turning around, he saw the figure of the man starting to grow larger. Icy fear flooded his veins. He gathered the folds of his nightgown and continued running. 

A dark mass of shadow coalesced in front of him, light from a flashlight following in his hurried footsteps. 

It had been minutes. His lungs ached with the burn of it all. He couldn’t hear anything else except for the hiss of the wind. He was starting to slow down. _Where was he?_

Adrenaline had fuelled his sprint here. Now he was exhausted, sweat dripping off his brow. Everything hurt. 

He stopped in front of a house, eyeing the bucket of gasoline hidden under the staircase. He unwrapped the knife, taking the blanket and tossing it underneath. He dipped the blade into the bucket. Drops of clear liquid fell over its end as he shook it from side to side to remove the excess. 

None of the street lights were on. He turned into a dark alley. It could keep him out of sight, maybe he could wait this out. 

A strong arm wound itself around his waist. His knife fell to the ground with a clatter. He struggled as he was brought up against a warm back, legs kicking frantically. A cloth was held tightly over his mouth. He panicked, slipping an arm out of the assailant’s grasp and hitting the man’s face hard with the back of his hand. Another foot swung backwards hard towards the man’s knee. 

The man cursed loudly and let go. Jeno picked up his knife, running out onto the street. The cloth must have had chloroform to render him unconscious. If he got knocked out, the man could have his wicked way with him.

Images flashed across his mind. His corpse floating in the drain, devoid of clothes. His hair sheared to the scalp. He knew of the ways they could defile his dead body. He wasn’t going to give this man the pleasure of killing him. His feet fell upon the pavement like thunder as he bolted. 

He wouldn’t be able to be taken down as easily out in the open. The man knew that, surely. He ran up the steps of the house from earlier, pounding his fists on the front door. “Please! Let me in!” 

There was a hard tug on his ankles. The assailant was pulling at him. Dragging him down, Jeno thought with sinking realisation, on someone’s doorstep. The man didn’t care if he got caught anymore. He was going to be murdered _here_ and _now_. 

He couldn’t! He couldn’t die! Ana was waiting for him, Tiffany was waiting for him! The man fell upon him, grappling at his fists. There was a resolute glint in his eyes. Jeno cursed the weakness of his frail body. 

The man was struggling to hold on with even with his full strength. Glancing downward, he noticed the glint of a dagger in the man’s pocket. The man removed one hand to retrieve it. “Stop struggling, you silly bint! Where is your daughter?”

Blood roared in his ears. Jeno swiftly took out his own knife. He didn’t make it in time. 

It was as if something had slapped him hard in the gut, over and over. His heartbeat was booming like a drum, unnaturally loud in his ears. If it beat any faster, he felt as if it would explode.

“It’s none of your business! What’s most important is that she’s away from _you!_ ” Jeno spat in his face, but the man was staring at him intently, pensive, punctuating the still air with his heavy breathing. 

“No mind. You’re actually rather beautiful,” he said. “Too bad you have to die by my hand.” 

“I’m not going to die.” His voice sounded small, sharp and motherly. It was the same tone he had used on Ana when she misbehaved. The waves of pain to his stomach were starting to numb. “And if I die because of you, I’m dragging you to hell with me.”

Jeno stabbed him in the flesh of his throat and twisted the knife hard. The man, dumbfounded, gawked at him. Red blood bubbled out of the wound, mixing with the smell of gasoline. Jeno lifted the lighter to the ugly scarlet mass and turned it on. He had never been so fascinated with the way the flame had danced on the black edge… 

The man was screaming. There was a smell of burning flesh, he was a ragdoll, falling over and over into himself as if made of wax, the flames falling upon him viciously like a swarm of bees. 

Jeno lost the feeling in her legs and slumped over, vision blurring. The world was a wink out of focus. His cheek felt wet. 

He couldn’t die. He still had so much to do. He still had a daughter to raise. The children would be waiting for him, the children he lost, but they didn’t need him, Ana needed him! He couldn’t… he couldn’t… he shan’t! He would never forgive him!

And as he lay out sprawled across the floor, watching black spots dancing across the dark sky, she still stubbornly clung onto life until it escaped him— until there was no more life to cling onto, stabbing pain making her convulse in its aftershocks.

__ 

She fell onto the floor. Her mouth had fallen open, but she couldn’t hear herself screeching. She remembered feeling like water was spilling down her nightgown, soaking it uncomfortably. She didn’t want to go! She didn’t want— Jeno stumbled out of bed, not willing to die—

_He remembered everything._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **What wicked little twist of fate placed you here upon my plate?  
>  Here where no one hears your cries?  
> Where was your God to steer you through?  
> Perhaps your God's forsaken you?  
> Otherwise, why lead you here to die?**


	25. Chapter 25

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My Playlist For Chapter 25 & 26  
> >> "Spider Suite" by The Duke of Uke and His Novelty Orchestra  
> >> "Deep In Love" by DAY6  
> >> "Don't Make It Hard" by Oliver Boyd and the Remembralls

He looked at the clock. It was five ‘o clock. He had slept _fourteen_ hours… he needed to go to school earlier to help prepare for the dance… he had to go… 

It felt as if he was going through the motions. He would need to put on his costume, right? Jeno almost laughed at the thought as he looked into the closet mirror. With the way he was covered in hair, the horns on his head more noticeable than ever, his eyes so bright they seemed more like contacts— he could go just like this, and none would be the wiser. 

He peeled off his sweaty shirt in place of a white tank top, putting on a coat out of habit, the diary hidden in the folds of an inner pocket. He looked at his shoes the entire way there and wondered if his toenails had grown, too. Perhaps Renjun had unwittingly lied when he said that Jeno wasn’t going to die. 

_Where did Irene end and Jeno begin?_

And he was panicking. 

The thing about panic was that it did not start in your limbs, but it stirred from the pits of your torso, a frenetic, disturbed bird that slumbered most of the time until it unwittingly crashed its head into the insides of your chest. Repeatedly. 

He should be calm. He ought to be calm. But he could feel what of Irene fluttering incessantly in his throat, the feeling of despair, the inability to escape your fate. Suddenly, what Ten had said about energies all made sense— Irene, by cursing him, she must have left a part of herself with him, melting into him in every facet of his personality; how much of his words were his, how much of his impulsiveness had been hers— when he had stopped thinking of 'the ghost,' and of 'Irene' instead?

Distracted, he barely noticed the gaze following him from the bus as he slipped past the school gate. In front of the school, there was a food truck, Yeji waiting impatiently by the side as food got unloaded. She was wearing a large fluffy coat over a sleeveless black jumpsuit. 

Jeno gently tilted his head upwards, running over the flesh of his neck with a hand. It ached painfully in response. It felt like his body was trying to cave in on himself, throbbing as if bruised. 

“Yeji,” he said. She glanced up. There was a flame-flushed scatter of colour under the skin of her nose and her cheeks. “What exactly are you supposed to be?”

Annoyed, she pointed to the hairband in her hair. “I’m Catwoman, duh,” she said, sweeping her gaze over him, head to toe. “Wow, you really went all out with your outfit. Makeup and contacts? I didn’t expect that of you.” She flashed white teeth from tacky scarlet lips. 

“Uh-huh.” His tone was sceptical. It was unusually chilly today: she was shivering in her thin costume, one exhale had her breathing out a frosty white plume. He wondered if he would have died of heatstroke if the curse was marked to set in fully by the summer… 

“Our budget isn’t very big, isn’t it?” Yeji asked, eyeing the delicate pastries being whisked out on cling wrapped trays. “At least they look pretty. Eclairs? _Really?_ ”

“Let’s go inside.” Jeno spun on his heel. It would do no good to watch Yeji slowly freeze out in the cold. The outfit she was wearing appeared so frightfully thin. If she became an ice block, she wouldn’t be able to accompany him inside. 

There were a couple of stacked boxes to the side of the long table. There had been a lull when he had missed school, so he had taken that time to good use, baking up a storm of pumpkin-shaped gingerbread cookies to contribute to the food. He picked up a crumbly one and handed it to Yeji. 

The gym was a beautiful sight. The entire place had been bathed in a violet purple light, so warm and bright and captivating, it transformed what used to be an unseemly, abandoned place to something more lucrative and inviting; spotlights of dusty rose and faded neon green flashing across a disintegrating blue floor. The stage was in the midst of it all, a promise of what was to come. Jeno took off his guitar and propped it up against the wall. 

“Are the performers here yet?” 

“Well, you’re a performer, and you’re here,” said Yeji. He hated it when she was cheeky. “Okay, okay, no. Just you and Chenle.” 

Initially, he was relieved. Then he remembered he was one of the performers! Jeno’s eyes widened in panic. The performance was today. Right. He hadn’t even bothered to practise the day before— how stupid was that? Even as a boy of seventeen, his stage fright hadn’t completely gone away— he would surely screw it up. They had two songs to play. _Two!_ Oh, blast it all, he couldn’t even commiserate in peace without one grand finale. How could he have forgotten?

“Oh good, the two of you are here.” Jeno and Yeji turned to see Chenle standing by the entrance of the gym. 

Chenle was wearing a long-sleeved, light pink silk blouse tucked into a dark pair of slacks that made his legs look half a mile long. A beautiful black coat with a collar fanned out from his neck. His skin was pale ambrosia, taking on its own fine sheen, shimmering softly underneath the lights. A streak of red painted his lips and ended at his chin like blood on snow. He had never looked more enticing, or unreachable. 

Jeno could not stop staring at Chenle's lips. Belatedly, he realised he was gaping, and he had to forcefully run a palm over his jaw to shut his mouth. He ought to meet the younger boy’s eyes, but he simply couldn’t.

He hated how Chenle was pretending nothing was wrong as if they hadn’t had an argument over making the choice between what was right and what was easy. Still, nothing was cast in black and white. 

Chenle had that cursory little smile on his face. Jeno never remembered hating such a pretty smile _this_ much. It would have been better if Chenle had scowled at him; give Jeno a reason to thrum with righteous anger, anything at all, but he was being left to seethe. 

Chenle truly looked like a vampire, Jeno thought. Imagine! The absolute bloodsucker! Oh, the irony of it all. 

“You were absent for a bit. Are you feeling better now?”

Snapping out of his reverie, Jeno nodded, knocking a fist against one purple horn. It rang hollow and he offered a wry grin, too sarcastic to be casual. “Don’t you think I must be feeling much better to dress up like this? The horns almost feel real, you know. They’re quickly becoming a second set of limbs.”

Chenle was betrayed by a slight twitch of his eyebrow upon surveying Jeno’s appearance. It looked far too real to be just a costume, Jeno knew. But people would always have an explanation for what could not be explained, dismissed after a brief once-over. 

Chenle knew that too. Jeno knew that he knew. It was from the quiver twitch shiver of his bones, the nervous adjustment of a silk sleeve… was it pity? Or something more? 

He wanted to lean in, to lick at the red streak on Chenle's lips with his tongue. Blood didn’t look that colour. It was deeper, darker, _more pungent_. Jeno had watched a man die. Chenle’s costume felt far too crass, a false imitation of death. How many more students would come in as the undead, wearing the same shade of red? It was all so grossly obtuse. None of them had felt the fine dusty breath of death fan over them, a hair too close for comfort. Zombies and ghosts were an insipid, common costume. To think of the numerous mangled fakes mingling in front of him was too cruel. He wouldn’t be able to stay here long. 

They brought their instruments onto the stage. The weight of the guitar felt too heavy in his arms as he adjusted it against his chest and strung a nail through its strings. It made an off-tune sound. 

Suddenly, there was a whiff of spicy cologne. Jeno tilted his head by just mere millimetres, startled to see Chenle hunched over him, his shadow looming like a chill in the air. 

“Have you been practising?” Jeno shivered, shaking his head. Chenle was flummoxed for a moment, then his face fell instantly back into its blank slate. He had lied with ease, to Mrs Ahn, to the policeman. How many times had he lied, without Jeno knowing? But it always seemed like Chenle wore his heart on his sleeve— that was one reason why he liked the younger boy in the first place… somehow, they were the same person. 

Jeno was perched at the edge of his knobby stool, one foot shaking and hovering, sprawled out on one furry thigh. In light of what he had experienced in the past twenty-four hours, what he was planning to do felt practically intangible. He’d forget this night eventually, but he was still nervous anyway.

“You’re messing up on this note,” said Chenle, mushing his fingers across a couple of keys and making a horrible jangling sound, “do you want me to count out loud?”

“Nah,” he heard himself say. “It’s all right. We can’t be counting during the performance, can we?”

Chenle leaned forward, grasping his hand lightly in his palm and tracing over his fingers with a thumb. “You’re trembling.”

“I’m not trembling,” Jeno said wobbly, pulse fluttering. “Why are you so concerned if I tremble—“

“Can’t I be concerned for a friend? Even if we’re bickering… I still…” A nervous gulp. “I still care about you.” 

Jeno closed his eyes tight. On the underside of his eyelids, there was him, Irene, dying from a broken heart, scrabbling onto what she could hold with her fingertips. “You ought to be mad at me. Why aren’t you yelling at me?”

“Is that what you really want? Fine,” Chenle said quietly, without a fight, and returned to his keyboard, kicking one of its spidery legs into position. “Stop shaking or you’re going to mess our performance up.” 

Jeno was only slightly out of his wits, sleepy and sort of half-awake. They simply couldn’t coordinate. At first, it was both Jeno and Chenle being a count early or late, then it was just Jeno, fumbling over the notes in the middle of the song. During rehearsal, Chenle would have insisted on redoing an entire song from the first note whenever they blundered, but now… he didn’t even try to reinforce this rule. 

“What I see now… it got worse, didn’t it?” asked Chenle, a bottle of water to his mouth. 

He would have bit out something sarcastic. Yet it was as if all the fight had left him; he had spent so long wasting away in his bedroom, worried by what his friends might say. The yawning gap between his mindset two days ago and his present state was further than ever before. It was truly amazing, what you could experience in a short period of time. 

“I’m scared.”

“I would be too.” Chenle brushed a fleeting touch over the hair on the back of Jeno’s neck. “It’s spiky, Jen.” The casual nickname on Chenle’s tongue had never sounded sweeter. “Are you scared of the crowd, or the fur?”

“Both,” said Jeno. 

It was their fifth practice when Chenle had let him go. Jeno was more than relieved, sitting down in the corner and pulling out his phone. It had been vibrating in his pocket for the past half an hour. He welcomed the distraction. 

**[injun] Lmao where the hell are you Jaemin???**

**[nana] im taking my time lol**

**[injun] Do you know why Jeno has been online since like 5**

**[nana] he’s running *the dance* so i guess he’d be early**

**[injun] Oh yeah he’ll be performing…**

**[injun] GOOD LUCK!!! @You**

**[nana] yeah break a leg @You**

A loud cough. Chenle had approached him, shuffling his feet and staring at his shoes. “I think we should take a break, until it’s time for the performance.”

Jeno only nodded, listening to the sound of chatter. He was eyeing the clique of students who had streamed in. There were still a couple of dishes which didn’t have cling wrap removed. Wherever wasn’t occupied by furniture or decorations had been claimed as part of the dance floor. Soso had started freestyling in the midst of the students. She was greeted by uproarious cheers as the crowd whooped in synchronicity. 

“Soso’s really cool.” More students streamed in. 

“She is. She’s my best friend,” said Chenle, quietly. There was a sincere note to his words, and Jeno wondered why Chenle had broken up with her if she was such a lovely girl. If Jeno liked girls, he would like Soso too. Maybe he was missing something. 

Even while distracted, he would never miss the sight of his friends. They had slipped in a while ago, tending to the fruit punch. They kept looking around, but they didn’t appear to have seen him. 

_Bzzt_ , his phone said. 

**[nana] @You where’s you jen**

**[nana] we wanna say hi**

**[nana] also nice decorations**

**[nana] jun said your paper mache skulls were cute**

**[nana] you guys did a good job with the dance**

**[nana] you’re alright i hope?**

**[nana] sorry i haven’t been checking up on you cause ive been, like**

**[nana] trying to make a costume**

He glanced around to find his friend. Half of Jaemin’s head of hair was bleached white, the other half dyed jet black, strands artfully styled, effortlessly framing his face. Both Jaemin and Renjun were talking, eyes scrunched up with laughter, talking over a cup of punch. 

“Ouch. My scalp aches just looking at his hair,” Chenle said, amused. 

Jeno turned away. He didn’t want to see his friends’ reaction to his current appearance. They would just have to see him eventually with everyone else.

**[me] you can see me later when I perform**

**[me] :)**

Pulling off his coat, he felt the ratty cover of the diary from inside of a pocket, discreetly holding it up to Chenle’s line of sight. Tiffany’s name glistened in its thick dark ink. He hurriedly stuffed it back when he saw someone looking in his direction. Their instruments were already on stage, after all. Their schoolmates were waiting for a big show. 

It had been twenty minutes or so when Miss Kim signalled to them to get on stage. They were the first show of the night, not the last, but the students were starting to murmur. 

They scurried onto the stage. Chenle busied himself with the microphone. Jeno hunched over his guitar until he was nearly folded in half, absent-mindedly running over the machine heads as if he hadn’t made sure it was tuned to perfection the day before. 

At least he was sitting in a chair. What if his legs shook during his performance? There were a handful of students squeezing in through the back doors; not every person who bought a ticket would be here on time. That fact cheered him up just a little. 

His tongue felt heavy in his mouth. A mild flutter made his stomach wobble. Away from the watchful eyes of his schoolmates, he looked to Chenle, who was sipping at a pink thermal. Jeno hadn’t even noticed the younger boy had brought it on stage. 

Chenle caught him staring. He lifted the thermal good-naturedly. “ It’s honey with warm water and a little lemon juice to soothe my throat before I sing. Do you want a sip?”

He didn’t even know why he had accepted the drink so readily, as he wasn’t going to be singing in the first place. The wash of bitter-sweet warm eased and sloughed the tensions in his high-strung muscles, so it hadn’t been a bad idea after all. 

As the lights dimmed further, he felt more jittery. He was already going over the notes in his mind, switching numbly from one posture to another. Then there was something bumping against his foot, Chenle’s ankle gently bumping into his, startling him. Jeno turned his gaze away from the floor. 

He couldn’t spot any of his friends. Everyone else was a blur away from morphing into a faceless squirming mass, shades of dull purple. A long, tan arm raised up from its midst. It was Xuxi, face bright and smiling encouragingly, the way he would smile at their team before a match when they would be huddled together for a pep talk. 

He never thought he would be finding reassurance in his team captain at a time like this. Xuxi cupped a hand over his mouth, saying wordlessly, “Calm down, You’re going to do great.” Jeno vowed to only look at him the whole performance if this would be what would help him push through. 

A hush fell upon them. And Jeno was whispering, “one, two, three,” more for himself than for Chenle. He couldn’t hear anything except for his heartbeat, the stilled motions of the notes set up against the beat, the soothing hum of Chenle’s voice in the background. They should have picked a more exciting song, but pianos without a bass could be nothing but solemn and melancholy. 

“Where are you looking at?” sang Chenle, one beat softer into the microphone, the next beat amplified through the speakerphones, a count slower, one heartbeat aflutter. Jeno realised that Chenle was singing ‘Time For The Moon Night’ now, the Korean song, right after the first one, after a brief pause in the instrumental. Jeno quickly adjusted himself, now more aware, away from everyone else, playing to himself rather than for the crowd.

“The time to wait is over,” the speaker repeated.

“I’ll send you away now,” Chenle sang into the quiet. The speaker was not as faithful this time. 

But it was so absent of noise, all the students peering up at them. Jeno did not know his schoolmates to be capable of such a thing, and he wondered whether they were so amazed by their performance they were startled into silence, or rather, they were astonished by how terrible their performance was, especially their guitarist, who seemed more like a robot than a performer. 

“Ah.” Chenle smiled. He tapped his nails against the microphone again. It came out as two muffled taps instead of a grand old thump. 

Heads turned to look at each other. Someone was clapping to the beat of the song. Soso, standing by the side of the stage in her neon pants, was trying to cheer them on. His schoolmates quickly caught on, then they were all clapping too; Chenle grateful, singing without the microphone, louder, louder. Like this Jeno could hear every stutter, every pause, every shudder in the Chenle’s raw vocals. It was the loveliest thing he had heard. If the honey lemon drink was a drink for the throat, this was a drink for the ears. 

Once they finished their song the faces of his schoolmates seemed to clear up into all their sharp details, someone hooting loudly, a wolf whistle, another raucous clap of rain. It should have been a light pitter-patter, like a light drizzle on pavement, but their clapping sounded like it had been funnelled down a speakerphone and thrown straight into his eardrum with deadly accuracy. Jeno flinched, one hand covering his ear, trying to manage a strained smile for the excited crowd. 

There were Jaemin and Renjun at the back. With great difficulty Jeno lifted his head to meet their eyes, forgetting about the building headache right above his brow.

Renjun had that expression on his face Jeno could read like a book. It was a stupid look he would wear whenever there was a horrific twist in a movie he didn’t see coming, stunned and aghast. Jeno realised then he must have looked like a freakshow, all the fur on his arms and his legs, a performer who belonged on a circus poster. 

He would have made Ana cry. Ana _hated_ the monsters under her bed.

“Thank you very much to Jeno from Class 2-F and Chenle from Class 1-C for that spectacular performance! Please look forward to—“ 

He didn’t wait for Yeji to finish. He was already hauling the guitar onto the back, thinking, _the door, the door, I have to go._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I would be lying if I said I wasn't proud of this section.


	26. Chapter 26

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tw blood description

What was he thinking, coming up here for everyone to see? With the way he was now, they could have simply taken one look at him and known right away; what he was, what he was hiding in plain sight. He felt transparent, wrung-out, on display for other people to goggle at, the truth written on every inch of his body. 

Jeno didn’t bother to pick up his coat. There was no need to pretend as if he needed it. He fled downstairs, out of the gym and away from the people who knew him, counting the seconds it took for him to reach the school gate, clearing a path out of the doors, out into the bittersweet autumn air of the outside. 

The bus stop was empty. He sat down on the bench, breathing hard. It was dark outside, the moon very round and full in the sky. Jeno could still taste lemon on his tongue. 

He wasn’t thinking much. He just wanted to go home and hide under his blankets until he became a rotting corpse again. The wind was whistling a comforting tune in his ears, but it wasn’t as warm as Chenle’s singing. 

The sound of footsteps. Jeno jerked around to see a dark shadow in the distance slowly coming into view.

Under the moonlight, Chenle seemed just like a vampire. Except that vampires wouldn’t be feeling cold; Chenle had a thick padded jacket that looped his shoulders, length billowing past his knees over his thin costume. Jeno could hear his resoluteness falling out of one loose hand and onto the cobblestone ground, skidding over the rocks with a dull thud. 

“Jeno! Jeno!” He was shouting himself hoarse. 

What a silly boy, thought Irene. But Chenle was fierce despite his kindness, thought Jeno. He tucked his knees under his chin and over his heart before he spoke to him. 

“Are you feeling alright?” Under Jeno’s careful gaze, he turned pink, amending his words quickly. “I mean, you should have told me where you were going before you left like that,” said Chenle. He held his jade keychain up to his eye. The air seemed to crackle with impatient electricity, itching to shock and surprise. “You need this, remember? And you brought the diary?” 

“I brought the diary,” repeated Jeno, although he already knew that using it to summon Irene wouldn’t work. “For what it’s worth, I’m sorry.”

“What for?” Chenle took Jeno’s hand. It was ice cold in his. He felt just like a vampire, too. “Jeno, let’s go to Renjun’s house. We have to break the curse.” 

They ran non-stop until they reached their destination— one boy wearing a costume, one boy wearing his skin inside out. It was a night just like this when Irene had run for his life. It had been a night on this day, exactly fifty-three years ago, when Jeno had run this way, tail between his legs. At the same time, he had run this way only yesterday. 

Renjun lived nearby, which was why Jeno never saw him on the bus to school. All the lights in the house were off. 

“Anyone home?” Chenle knocked against the window with his fist. He was stricken, eyes darting around aimlessly. “How are we going to get in now?”

Distracted, Jeno said, “Renjun keeps a key buried in one of his flowerpots behind the house, in case of an emergency. You go look for it, I have to find something.” 

Chenle descended upon the garden at once. Jeno hoped he wouldn’t uproot any plants. He carefully went down the winding steps leading up to the front door. The two halves of the neighbourhood were split by a thin strip of grey road. Not much changed in fifty-three years. 

He closed his eyes, opening them slowly. 

There was him there, Irene, paler than she had ever been, hair straggled out under her like a dark halo, lying there with her arms splayed out. Her dressing gown had been torn, fanning out to show a thin nightdress underneath, hiked up her thighs, blood staining the cloth in thick welts over her legs and down her stomach. Even in her death, she still looked undaunted, as if she would get up any time to lash back, to maintain her struggle. The grass she had bled to death on had been a different shade of green, the pavement curved at a different angle. 

Her assailant was not as unrelenting. His expression of shock appeared to have been immortalised, glassy and unstained. He had been burning. There was a stain of thick black ash in the violent cut in his neck. Irene had removed the cloth she had wrapped that knife in to dip it in gasoline, it was underneath the short staircase, she had chucked the blanket aside, that was how she had managed to set the wound on fire—

The blanket! Jeno huddled over, bent down, sticking his head in the space underneath the staircase. He reached out his arm, not sure what exactly he was looking for. There was the feel of wool under his fingertips, so he seized and pulled. Out came a blanket. It was small and pink, with an English word embroidered into it, reading _Blessed._

A hot tear slipped down his cheek. A great wash of sadness rolled in like a tidal wave. Jeno could have let himself get swallowed up by it, but he didn’t understand where it came from, he wasn’t Irene, he hadn’t carried Ana for nine months, he didn’t love Ana the way a parent loved their child. 

“Chenle,” he said, wiping at his eyes furtively. “I found something.”

“Wait! I haven’t found the key—“

“It’s alright.” Jeno found the orange flowerpot in a matter of seconds. He raked his nails through the dirt until he bumped against hard metal. The cheaply made key was glistening like precious crystal. He tossed it to Chenle, using his clean hand to angle the blanket against his chest, as it was stained with age, so he had to be careful. 

Chenle had to lean forward on one foot to catch the key. “What are you holding?”

“It’s a baby blanket. Anastasia's baby blanket. It was the one she was wrapped in after she was born. The diary… it wouldn’t end up working… it was Tiffany’s. Irene used this to wrap a knife of hers, the one she used to kill her assailant,” he said. 

Chenle was puzzled, standing there, unmoving. It was as if all the rush had been taken out of him. “Jeno, is there something you’re not telling me?”

“I haven’t told anyone.” He sauntered out on the grass patch. He could still see the shapes of their bodies on the ground, tracing it over with a finger. “Here.”

“This was where Irene died. Someone was sent to kill her. One of her previous in-laws. She had been married to a man at seventeen. Her family was terrible to her.” 

His voice grated on his ears as if it had been sharpened on every syllable. 

“She got divorced and had a daughter out of wedlock. I suppose her in-laws must have been convinced she had a lover while she was married, so they sent someone to kill her, to protect their family honour. You were right when you said this issue was wrought with sexist bullshit.” 

“Jeno?” Chenle stared at him, full of concern. “How do you know this? None of the newspapers mentioned such a thing…”

He had already opened the door, stepping inside. Jeno ran his arm on the wall, his other arm linked together with Chenle’s arm. He glanced back to the doorway. Two bodies had been lying here on the doorstep. How would the owner of the house have reacted to the crime scene on their doorstep? 

They were halfway up the staircase, Chenle three steps behind him. He hadn’t bothered to hide his unabashed goggling. Jeno ought to tell him, so he reluctantly turned around to look at the younger boy. 

“Chenle, Irene died while struggling to let go. When she cursed me, she took her anger and gave it to me. But because anger is such a large part of her soul, she pretty much gave me herself.”

“What? Are you telling me…? Everything makes sense now. God, I’m so stupid.” Chenle crossed his arms, shaking his head in resignation. “I kept sensing a spirit around whenever you were near. It didn’t occur to me that the spirit was you. I mean,” he was pacing on the precocious step, “it didn’t make sense to me at all. I’m just an amateur. I’m sorry, I should have consulted my grandfather about this.” 

“No, it’s alright. There’s nothing you could have done,” Jeno said with unnatural calmness. He knew he meant what he said. “I’ve been having dreams. I didn’t know what they were supposed to be. Now I know I was reliving Irene’s memories.”

“What were they about?”

“Menial things. Housework. Her in-laws. Meeting strangers.” All the faces in his dreams must have come from somewhere. Suddenly, everything was falling into place. “Her last moments.”

Chenle’s dark silhouette caught up with him. There was a tiny window on the opposite wall, a shard of light streaming through, catching in his eyes. They sparkled like jade, flecks of moon-lit hazel winking in the darkness. He looked pained, meekly dipping his head back into the surrounding sea of shadow, away from the bright. 

_Dammit, you’re supposed to be mad at me._

“Since you know, would it help with the investigation?” he asked. “I mean. Well. Since you said you wanted the case to be solved. You would have spent time doing your own research?”

“I did. I submitted a page of the diary.” Jeno blinked at him. How nice it would be to have telepathy! Some things sounded like they couldn’t be said aloud. “It’s alright, you know. I’m a self-centred person. I doubt I would have been as concerned as I would have been if Irene’s spirit wasn’t with me.”

“No!” Chenle blurted out. “I mean. I could believe it.” His cheeks bore a pink tint. “You’re nice. And you care a lot about the dance. You offered to teach me how to skate. You care more than you think.” 

Jeno wasn’t sure what to say, so he simply marched the rest of the way up. They had plenty to talk about; it was like an itch he wanted to scratch, what had gone unaddressed. 

He had to make a detour to Renjun’s room to pick up a candle. A phone flashlight would have worked as well, but it felt more meaningful to use a candle since it was what Renjun had used to light the way the past two times. 

“The door to the attic is... up here.” He yanked on the handle and the rickety ladder tumbled out. The newly opened space seemed to gape at him, musty air spilling out, the taste of sage under his tongue. There was no one there, only the whisper of someone who had come and gone. 

Jeno cautiously lowered the candle to sweep the floor, where there was an ouija board Renjun must have left behind. How many times had he come here, to talk to Irene? It wasn’t too late yet. There were different shades of darkness in the attic, leaving only a rough outline of their surroundings. He quickly passed the blanket to Chenle. 

“Alright. Let me do this for you.” The younger boy stood at attention, balancing the keyring on a finger. 

He ought to feel nervous. But somehow he already knew what was coming… 

“Come to me Irene Young, mother of Anastasia Young!” 

Silence. 

“I reiterate, come to me Irene Young, mother of Anastasia Young?” 

Chenle turned around, looking at Jeno with a beseeching gaze. “There’s no ghost here. I thought she was hiding, but I really truly don’t feel anything!” His face crumpled. “Are you truly going to be stuck like this forever? Surely there’s a way to reverse the curse, a part you didn’t tell me?”

The irrational part of himself flinched. It was as if the hopelessness had hit him back in full force, the fact that there was no one there, that he knew what was going to transpire. He indulged himself anyway. 

“Last time Renjun was here, he said he hadn’t seen Irene until their candle was extinguished. He said she was very faint.” He pinched at the little orange fire between his fingers, the burn cooling on his skin. 

Now they were truly alone. Yet, nothing. 

It was one thing to know how things would turn out, but it was another to watch what you dreaded come to pass in front of your eyes. His new appearance would be permanent, then?

“You never did tell me what you meant by messing up your life,” said Jeno idly, ineffectively squashing the rising panic spiralling upwards in his stomach. “I could say the same thing about you. It was hurtful to hear.” 

Chenle shrunk further into his sides, hidden from view. The world seemed to slip away from him, piece by piece, drowning and squalling. Why did he keep making that kicked puppy face? He hated it. Jeno had learnt of Chenle’s vindictive side, he felt toppled, but somehow… 

“I shouldn’t have done that. I shouldn’t have said that. I’m still trying to figure things out. I shouldn’t have panicked.” 

_You are the one who made this happen. You are the one who made me stew. Why are you so beautiful, yet feel so inaccessible? It felt like torture to see you laugh when I wanted you to simmer like me, at the same time I wanted you to continue laughing, it was such a wonderful sound. My body felt like it was two distinct halves. You made me and Irene disassociate. This is the power you have over me. You made me melt and boil, soften and harden, fold and unfold…_

“I wanted to call you Lele.” 

“What?” Chenle’s mouth was unmoving. 

“I know what I have to do,” said Jeno. 

He stood in front of the pieces of furniture stored in the attic, the one he could look at eye-level. She had liked it the most out of the rest of everything else she had stayed with because it was a reminder of what she was. 

When she peered into it she saw nothing. There was a thick velvet cloth over it. He could see it, in his periphery, what he would be pressing into, he grasped it, feathers ruffled, he lifted it up, up and _away_.

He looked into himself, but he only saw Jeno. “Irene!” The other side stayed unmoving. “Irene! You beckon to me before I see, but now, when you are a part of me, you choose to hide?”

Something started to take shape in the silver, a cloudy haze forming into thin lines. There was him, there was her, there was Irene. She was a ghost in the mirror, the true reflection he was supposed to see. 

“Holy shit,” Chenle murmured. “She doesn’t feel like a spirit at all.”

“That’s because she’s me.” Jeno examined her appearance. In his previous encounters with her, he had brushed over all the small details, caught up in his friends’ flighty energy. Now, he could see the splintered glow of her nightgown, the streak of blood down her leg still fresh in death. 

“How did you figure it out?” asked Irene. From the corner of his eye, he could see Chenle suppress a full-body shiver, the kind that started from his toes and made his fingers twitch. Yet Jeno stood there full mast as if reporting to a sergeant. 

He shrugged. “You told me what would happen, remember?” 

“So I did. And you brought the boy.” She regarded Chenle with a curious eye. “Does he know why he’s here?” 

Shaking one leg incessantly, Chenle anxiously glanced at him, hands deep in his coat pockets. “What did she say?”

“What?”

“I can barely see her or hear her. What is she saying?” 

It occurred to him then that he technically knew her inside out. She knew what he was thinking; he knew her truth. If she said the truth aloud, Chenle wouldn’t hear and he wouldn't ever know, unless Jeno chose to tell him. 

“Right,” he said impatiently. “We were just making small talk, that’s all. Nothing important.” 

“Jeno.” 

“Yes?” He defensively folded the blanket over his chest. It felt like a comfort of sorts, thrumming with memories.

“Tell him,” Irene said. 

He gritted his teeth, glaring at Irene, who was impassive in the presence of his impertinence. “I have to tell you something. There was a way to break the curse. I didn’t mention it ‘cause I was certain it would be impossible.”

Chenle held up the jade to the mirror. “The curse becomes permanent by the eve of Halloween, right? We can’t stay here forever. What is it?”

His mouth ran dry. _Please don’t hate me,_ he thought imploringly. If only his feelings would be reflected on his face. He never managed to find the right words. They always seemed a hair’s length away. 

“ _’If you don’t have the person of your affections confess to you by the eve of Halloween, you will transform into the ugliest thing anyone has ever laid eyes on,’_. That's what she said,” Jeno said blankly, word by word. He looked Chenle in the eye. It was funny how easy that felt now. He would not stop _faltering_. 

“You’re stuttering.” Chenle had his back turned to Jeno and he didn’t seem to be moving an inch. “You have a crush on someone?”

“Well, yes,” he said sharply. “The thing is that I had a crush on you, so—”

Something shifted. There had been a feeling he didn’t know he was experiencing, warm and cold, seeping out of his chest and into his fingertips and into the air, nearly toppling him over. He could hear a loud _whoosh_. It was like a separate entity had chosen to dislocate itself from him, something who had been embedded down to the very bone. It was as if he had lost a limb, but he could still feel its phantom movements flagging there. 

He fell over onto the floor. Irene was standing in front of him, as intimidating and as ghostly as she looked the day he had met her. He could remember why he had been terrified out of his wits at her presence. The space between her brows wasn't furrowed. She didn’t look enraged. Jeno pulled at the horns still on his head. The curse hadn’t vanished with her. 

“You know what happened to me,” she said to Jeno, unperturbed by his stumble. “And you have found evidence, what happened to me? Do you know what happened to my daughter?”

He shook his head. “You know as well as I do. Tiffany brought Ana to America. For all I know, she could be dead. I was in there in your last moments. I’m going to help you reopen the case, to find out what happened to you. Will you be alright now?”

“I will be,” she said, tone softened a great deal, “I see no need to be angry, knowing that they managed to flee. Even if you do not manage to solve it, it means a lot to me to know somebody will know my truth.” 

There was a tight grip on his shoulder, Chenle helping him to his feet, not letting go, eyebrows raised higher than Jeno had ever seen them, mouth open in a silent 'o.' Jeno reminded himself not to tremble, the fact that he had just confessed not leaving his mind. 

“I use this jade to ferry ghosts,” Chenle told Irene. “I bring them back and help them go home. It’s a temporary thing, but I could bring you elsewhere to resolve this, to send you to the afterlife. Would you want to…?”

“I’m coming.” Then there was a whirl of light and sound, Irene becoming unseen to the eye. The jade keychain was bright once more. 

Jeno gently pried it from Chenle. The stone was shivering with wilting tremors. He could hear it whisper to him in undulations, murmuring words he did not understand. 

Chenle bent down and opened the trapdoor. “Come with me, Jen. We’re going somewhere else,” he crawled down the ladder. Jeno wasn’t sure what came next. The younger boy hadn’t elaborated on what he had to do.

They went out into the garden, back into the cold air. Streetlights sparkled like speckled stars against a black night. The sweet tang of dew greeted them as Chenle scurried out into the middle of the relatively empty clearing, the rustle of grass murmuring as he moved forward. The two of them hadn’t exchanged a single word. 

“Do you _actually_ like me? Or did you only get close to me to resolve the curse?” 

“What?” Jeno stared at Chenle. 

“I’m not going to lie. At first, I joined solely because I wanted to get close to you… then I got to know you beyond your face. I learnt that you were kind and smart… that you were humble, that you were a free spirit.” 

God, his face was burning.

“I kept trying to find more ways to spend time with you. I kept telling myself it was for the sake of the curse, for my own sake… but only when my friends sat me down and talked to me, I realised I wasn’t upset because I would succumb to the curse. I was upset at the possibility you didn’t like me… this curse has caused me nothing but tears and stress, but I wouldn’t take it back for the world because if I had never gotten cursed, I would have never gotten to know you the way I do now.” 

It made him feel better to see Chenle’s face was starting to resemble a tomato as well. But he wasn’t a tomato, he could never be one— he was too pretty. At the rare times he did flush, it was a lovely shade of pink. 

“You truly are messing up my life,” he muttered, running a hand through his hair. 

Jeno folded his arms. “You never did tell me what that was about.”

“I didn’t just break up with Soso because I was with you. I broke up with her because we were better off as friends,” he said. “I also broke up with her because I started liking you, and it wouldn’t be fair to her.”

That was it. He was going to spontaneously die here and now. Chenle liked him even though he looked like a disaster. Chenle liked him even though he was a disaster. They had argued, they had sat together under the rain at the witching hour, they had bumped shoulders during after hours in the library. Had that all meant something? Jeno thought it was just him, but clearly, he had been as blind as a bat—

“You like me too?” Jeno asked feebly. It was utterly ludicrous, the condition they were in. Confessions were meant to be under cherry blossom trees, not during a freezing night cold. Then again, they were two boys, and in romance novels, it wasn’t exactly how that worked, was it?

“These aren’t the right words. I. Like. You. I like you having you around. I enjoy your company. I—“

“Chenle!” Jeno exclaimed, pointing to the jade. “The light is growing fainter!”

“What? Oh!”

He laid the keychain down, green upon green, towards the sky. The light in the jade was flickering and fading slowly, a burnt-out candle melting away. It was long overdue, Jeno thought, as the light left it completely, Irene reforming in front of them. 

Her voice was like the soothing lull after dawn, not unrelenting, only accepting. Jeno could easily see her as a mother like this, a child swaddled up in her arms. 

Chenle had put the baby blanket down as well. She smiled at it gently. Her lips moved, but there was no sound. She became lighter, lighter, lighter until she was just a wrinkle of time weaving herself back into the dirt where she lay; until she faded into the moonlight. 

“Where did she go?” Jeno said in a breath, amazed. His exhales came out as puffs of white. The cold seeped into his fingers and his toes. He was shivering now, but he smiled back at the moon anyway, as if Irene could see him there. 

Chenle had a peaceful expression on his face, pliant and soft. “She left on her own. Her anger dissolved, and she went home.”

The floaty feeling hadn’t left him. Maybe that was why impulsiveness came to him so easily… 

Jeno leaned in, licked at the red streak on Chenle’s bottom lip, and kissed him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **I know the way how, I'll melt away now.  
>  I know the way.  
> I'm feeling bliss now, dissolved to mist, how strangely I go away.  
> Now I finally know...**
> 
> __
> 
> //Y'ALL I'M SCREAMING INTO MY PILLOW RIGHT NOW  
> it only took... (checks doc) 94,000 words for them to kiss :)


	27. Chapter 27

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You don’t, I say, you don’t owe me squat, let’s just get going, let’s just get gone, but he’s  
> relentless,  
> 

Chenle couldn’t stop looking at him. He blinked once, blinked twice, then started again, baffled. “You kissed me.” 

It appeared that shamelessness died at the brink of death as Jeno could only nod, not feeling much. The fake blood must have used cherries, he thought. Chenle tasted like cherries. Under the glow of the streetlight, his bottom lip shiny with Jeno’s spit. 

“Your fur, Jeno!”

Jeno brought his hands to arms to greet colder, smoother planes of skin, running them across his body, feeling at his newly shortened nails, petting at his hornless head and black eyelashes. “The curse! It’s broken!”

Then the icy temperature sunk in and his teeth started chattering. Because of the insulating fur, he hadn’t been dressed appropriately for the weather in the slightest, only in a tank top and shorts. He ought to have brought extra clothes, but he hadn’t thought about what would happen afterwards if the curse had been broken. 

A heaviness graced his shoulders. Chenle removed his thick coat which had served as a cape for his costume and put it on Jeno. It was surprisingly warm, the insides lined with faux fur. Jeno could not help the little stir a butterfly made inside his stomach. 

“We should get going,” said Chenle, already starting on the path back. He didn’t have anything to protect him from the elements, dressed solely in his thin costume. Jeno only nodded, somewhat dumbfounded. 

It was an awkward walk back. After their confessions, they didn’t know what to do. They stayed on opposite ends of the road, ears pink, shoes scraping against the tar. Even until now the fact that he had kissed Chenle hadn’t settled in. What was he supposed to say?

When they reached school, the dance was in full swing. Even in the hallway, they could hear the loud, excited cheers of their schoolmates. Jeno knew his friends. Renjun and Jaemin would probably be chatting in a corner away from the crowd, enjoying the sway of the music. But to his surprise he spotted them outside the gym, waiting for someone. 

“Jeno!” Jaemin yelped. “Where have you been— oh!” He ran up to Jeno, tackling him in an enthusiastic hug. “You’re normal! You’re back to normal!”

“I am,” said Jeno, and he was grinning, returning the hug. 

Renjun was grasping his arms as if he couldn’t believe what he was seeing. “The curse? It’s gone?” His eyes were suspiciously shiny. 

Jeno was speechless. “Jun. Renjun. Are you going to cry?”

“What? No, I’m not,” Renjun said, though he was wiping at his cheeks. “I’m just… glad… when I saw you there, on stage, I thought we had lost you for good. You must have been feeling terrible,” then he dissolved into a bunch of tiny, ugly, hiccuping sobs. 

“Oh, please don’t, I don’t know how to comfort people like this.” Jeno looped an arm around Renjun anyway, drawing him close. 

There was a dark wet mark slowly growing on the cape where Renjun had been crying. Jeno still had to return the cape, so he said, “Jun, I’m sorry I made you cry, but this isn’t mine, it’s Chenle’s. Could you not sob on it? I don’t think he’d like dried tears.”

“Chenle?” Jaemin asked with a playful glint in his eye. “That explains where your costume went.”

The sense of normality the question brought was so unbelievably refreshing, Jeno could have wept from it all. It had felt like the dark clouds which had been hovering over him had finally cleared out to a bright, summery sky. 

His shoulders sagged. “I told him what happened and he helped me.” Both of them looked round to glance at Chenle in poorly disguised surprise. Jeno just realised that the younger boy had been standing to the side during their reunion, keeping more to himself. “It’s not my story to tell. Maybe you should ask him?”

Chenle’s eyes widened almost imperceptibly. Renjun and Jaemin had clambered over to him, but he kept his gaze on Jeno. “Right… um… I think we should go back in. Both of us are chaperons, so we have to return to the dance. Miss Kim’s probably wondering where we are.”

Most of the food had gone. Jeno nibbled at an eclair as Renjun wobbled on the dance floor, imitating choreography Jeno knew from Gee. Chenle had invited a close friend, so he was talking to him by the punch bowl. He felt content at the moment to simply watch the goings and comings of the people around him. 

“Jen,” Renjun said, slipping next to him. “Shove over.” He snatched a cookie Jeno had made to eat, making a satisfied noise as he worked his way through it. “You should tell Doyoung and Yerim that you’re all better now.”

He shrugged. “Yes, I should. You should tell Yerim, then.”

“Why should I do it? You do it. Stop teasing me,” said Renjun, swatting at Jeno’s arm. “There were a couple of girls who kept laughing at me. Not with me, at me. Where’s Jaemin?”

They watched him go up to Chenle and his friend, Donghyuck. Eventually, Chenle had removed himself as the two of them dissolved into a conversation. Jaemin was doing that funny little thing with his hands he did when he found people attractive, brushing at a stray lock of hair every few seconds. He shared a knowing glance with Renjun. 

“I can count on one hand the number of people I’ve seen him openly check out.”

“Well, it helps that Donghyuck is dressed as the gay pride flag,” Jeno remarked. At least it wouldn’t be unrequited, with the other boy giving Jaemin’s shoulders a very appreciative glance while Jaemin’s back was turned.

It would have helped if boys he liked came with a heads-up like that, whether they would be able to like you back. Like this you would be able to ask them out on dates and have them walk away if they weren’t into you the same way with no hard feelings, he mused. 

It was getting stuffy inside, so Jeno went out and sat by the empty stairwell. It lifted his spirits to see no one was outside by themselves. The fact that the dance was a success heartened him. Perhaps next year a group of determined students could run it to make it just as grand. 

If he had known it would have led up to this… he wouldn’t have minded. They had planned and practised so much for this. He had become friends with Chenle. And hell, he ended up liking him much more than he had expected. He had unravelled a mystery from years ago; then was almost a ghost and was almost a monster. 

”I was hoping to find you here.” 

“Oh. Hey.” Jeno’s heart leapt into his throat, mustering a smile at Chenle. The younger boy joined him, sitting next to him on the other end of the step. “You were looking for me?” Jeno remembered he had Chenle’s cape. “Do you want this back?”

Their eyes met for a brief still before they glanced off in different directions. Jeno couldn’t stop thinking about what they had told each other earlier, and it seemed Chenle couldn’t either. 

“No, I came to talk to you.” Chenle had two pink spots on his cheeks. “Besides, it looks good on you. Okay, I’m getting off-topic. I owe you an explanation.”

“I owe you an explanation too,” Jeno said in a rush, heart beating hard, “I shouldn’t have avoided you—”

“What was I thinking when I said those awful things to you—”

They stared at each other. “You go first, Chenle.”

“I have to admit something,” Chenle said, fingers loosely interlaced, elbows resting on his thighs. “You really made me have a bit of a crisis.”

“You said that already.”

One of Chenle’s hands found their way to his head of hair and he was tugging at a few strands. “Let me get to my point, alright? You had your chance to talk. Now let me have mine.” He frowned. “My life was perfectly normal before I met you. Sure, you know I have a few problems here and there, but other than that, nothing pressing. Then you came in and I didn’t even know I could like a boy before you.”

 _Him_? Jeno was the one who… 

“It must have been awful to date someone and realise you have feelings for something else,” Jeno said. 

“Don’t bother apologising for making me feel things you can’t control. I suppose it was always there and I should have ignored it, but I let my frustration get the better of me, and I said the most horrible things.” Chenle smiled shakily at him, the two of them tilted to face each other, only inches apart. “At the very least, you didn’t ignore it too.”

“You’re not the only one who’s guilty. After finding out you were dating Soso… I… had awful thoughts about you. I felt like you were ruining my life,” Jeno said, “when you shouted at me, it felt like you were saying what I was thinking. How was it ever your fault?” 

He gently wrenched Chenle’s hand out of his now tousled hair. “I’m sorry for not being honest.”

“I’m sorry I had to make you choose. I didn’t know what Irene meant to you. I was so caught up with the presence of spirits, it made me antsy—”

There was a loud crash behind them. Startled, they turned around to see Yeji with her friends streaming out of the gym, a Bluetooth speaker precariously balanced on one of Hyunjin’s shoulders, beat so loud it boomed like a drum. All of them were singing along to the song passionately, drunk on energy. 

It was Hyunjin who led the charge. “My heart flutters towards you, starting from today, you and I!” 

His friends cheered, singing along terribly off-tune, a cacophony of sound and noise. “I’ll send with you my heart!” 

Chenle and Jeno stared at each other. Renjun had been among the crowd, zombie makeup smudged across his face. Then they started laughing.

“You’ve gone through a lot of shit today,” Chenle said. “Let’s just mess around, and have fun.”

The younger boy grabbed his arm, and they followed the group down the stairs. 

__

In the morning, instead of meeting elsewhere, Chenle dragged him to an empty classroom. Jeno came without much protest. Even if he complained, it usually proved futile. 

The younger boy removed a newspaper from his jacket. It was their local newspaper. The headline was so out of place, Jeno found himself at a loss for words. 

_** 50 YEAR OLD COLD CASE REOPENED: POLICE SUSPECT FOUL PLAY ** _

"They solved it,” said Jeno after a beat, mouth dry and heart light. He scanned through the article quickly.

__

__

There had been no autopsy. It wasn't terribly difficult to find the evidence behind the assassination— her past in-laws, who had long been dead, hadn't been bothered to cover up much of their heinous crime as they had bribed the police. Ever since the true circumstances of her death had been revealed, her case had been reopened.

The next page had spoken of her background in excruciating detail. It should have felt haunting to see Irene’s ID photograph splashed out in grey print, but Jeno only felt relief. He should have expected this kind of reaction. It would have been the most exciting thing that had happened in this town for years.

“The auntie who was taking care of the estate gave an interview,” Chenle said pointedly, just as Jeno chanced upon the aforementioned section. He had his phone out. “I was messaging Jaemin and Renjun, I told them to come by.”

It was hard to believe that the protective, elderly woman would have agreed to publicise Irene’s home life. But she was written as being thrilled to tears about revealing her truth, talking about how Miss Joohyun had suffered so much, and for nothing. Then there was the writer’s input regarding the blatant sexism at the time. Jeno closed the newspaper, putting it on the table. 

He heard the doors opening. “What’s the matter?” Renjun asked before his gaze fell upon the article. There was an audible gasp, the light of recognition briefly brushing across his face, him snatching up the papers with a hurried rustle. 

Renjun looked stricken as he raised his head. “She had such an awful life. No wonder she was so… angry. How was the police convinced to reopen the case?”

“Isn’t that the ghost?” Jaemin was peering over it as well, curious. Then he added two and two together. There were many things he hadn’t told them about. What happened during the time he was away with Chenle the day of the Halloween dance, for one.

“Wait. Does Chenle know about the ghost, too?”

“I do. It was because of Jeno that the case reopened.” He levelled a terse nod in Jeno’s direction. He must have still felt guilty. “Is it alright if I sit down and tell you two what happened?”

“You have a lot of explaining to do, Jen,” said Jaemin hotly. Strangely enough, he quickly became concerned, seeing Jeno as still a statue, “Jen? Are you alright?”

“I’m glad,” he had said, and then he was crying with ruthless abandon, the empty space he had felt from earlier suddenly filling up with a mournful grief Irene had not allowed him to succumb to. He clutched at his sleeves. “I’m g-glad that she managed to— _hic!_ ”

It was Chenle who comforted him, stroking his arm gently and doing not much else. Jeno didn’t want to receive a hug, like how his friends would have done; he wanted to commiserate, he had to boil.

“We should visit her grave,” Renjun said, patting his hand. “Say goodbye properly. They have the address of the graveyard she’s resting in. Bring her flowers, maybe.”

Jeno could only cry harder.

__ 

The unmarked grave was a grey beauty among the shockingly white snow, a washed-out halo in the dreary winter. Absently Jeno dug his hands further into his pockets, watching his warm breath fan out before him. Against the backdrop of the graveyard, her resting place was marked plainly, without any name.

_'A loving mother.'_

Many well-wishers had visited her grave, leaving an assortment of flora. Chenle had brought a stalk of rose for her. Jeno remembered the petunias she had received on a date and bought an entire bouquet. 

"It's still difficult to wrap my head around the fact that we were the last people to talk to her long after her passing. I've never dealt with something like this. My grandfather probably has," said Chenle, gesturing to the tomb. He wondered if they could etch her delicate features into the stone, to let people know who she was. He had a feeling that she wouldn't have minded the epithet, though

"I'm glad she's resting properly now," Renjun murmured, pausing to clasp his hands together in a moment of silence. He muttered a word of condolence under his breath. Well, he had been the one who had seen Irene the most. She lived in his house the entire time. "Should we get going? It's freezing out here."

The shorter boy trundled through the lighter sheet of snow back to where they had come from. Jeno was about to follow suit behind him, but there was a tug on his jacket.

"Could you go on ahead first?"

Renjun gave him a knowing smile, then left.

He turned around. "What's up, Chenle?" 

They were standing beneath the frame of an arc closer to the cathedral; Jeno tried to study Chenle's expression beneath his thick scarf. It looked uncertain except for a rather chewed bottom lip. In the cold, a pink flush had dusted his pale complexion, over his cheeks and the bridge of his nose. The rush of affection Jeno felt spring up was undeniable.

It happened so quickly. If Jeno had blinked, he might have missed it. Chenle stood a little taller on his toes and pecked Jeno's lips. At his dumbfoundedness, Chenle laughed, a light, mischievous sound.

"Sorry. I just wanted to kiss you right there. A spur of the moment, really—"

Astonished, Jeno enveloped his arms around the younger, one palm used to cup his face, kissing Chenle soundly once more, a good lot longer than the last.

When they stopped to look at each other, Jeno realised that he had wound an arm around Chenle's waist.

“You know, when I kissed you that night, it was my first one.”

"Your lips are so chapped," Chenle said, gently returning the caress. He was so much warmer than Jeno. “I’ve never kissed a boy before. They say girls taste like lip balm, soft and sweet. You’re not exactly soft,” Jeno smiled at that, “but you’re very sweet, in my opinion.”

 _You taste like love,_ he thought at once, shivering and feeling quite sappy.

"I might be pansexual. I think. I thought about it. Donghyuck talked to me about it too.”

Jeno smiled. “You don’t have to rush to find a label. You might have a few hits or misses before you truly figure it out,” he said. “But that doesn’t make you any less or more of a person. I’m proud of you.”

“Could I be truthful with you?” At Jeno’s nod, Chenle froze up a little, uncertain. “I’m scared. I don’t know how my family might feel.”

That was right. After the high of a sparkling high school romance reality settled in like a sweeping winter cold. Chenle seemed hopeful and half out of his wits. Jeno knew this feeling like the back of his hand. He couldn’t lie to him and say that everything would be alright.

“It’s alright to feel scared. I do think it is absurd, sometimes. It’s not like straight people have to come out.” He thought the younger boy might have laughed, but instead, he was looking at him and agreeing seriously. “It’s not exactly fair, is it?"

“All I can say is that if...” Jeno gulped, “if things don’t work out the way they should, we’ll have a family in each other. I’m glad,” he said. “I’m glad I have you with me.”


	28. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oh, I cannot deny when I look at you, I see a future  
> Maybe with a little time, we could make it and be together  
> But all that I can say …

**_Five years later..._ **

“What time does Chenle return from the airport?” 

Jeno looked up from the banner he was writing on. 

Donghyuck was sprawled out across the new sofa bed which still smelled like plastic, lazily tossing a magazine to the floor. “You know, there’s an article they have here on how to do a housewarming party.”

“Don’t,” Jeno groaned. He had been surprised by the rustle of papers, nearly making his writing hand go crooked. “I need this banner to be perfect. I haven’t seen him in months, let me indulge a little! Housewarming sounds like something my mom would do. Also, the plane lands at 5 pm.” 

He put the finishing touch on the border of the banner, which spelt out Chenle’s name in Chinese characters. Satisfied, he stretched his sore legs, padding towards the newly framed photo on the windowsill. “I don’t know why I invited you here, honestly,” he muttered. 

Donghyuck leered good-naturedly at him, picking up the bouquet of flowers and waving it in Jeno’s face. Why did it have to be Donghyuck to live the closest to a florist, of all people? Jaemin would have been less annoying about it, at least. 

He hadn’t pegged Chenle as the romantic type, but before his boyfriend had left for Shanghai to finish his final years of education, he had given him a printed photograph of them together during Jeno’s graduation, the older boy still in his graduation gown when they had eaten at a BBQ restaurant. Jeno only got the opportunity to frame it up once he had moved into his apartment. 

That was where Chenle had asked him to be his boyfriend. Jeno remembered it as clearly as the day before. They had been dancing around each other for a little over a year and a half when they had given their relationship a label. It was, without a shadow of a doubt, one of the best things to emerge out of his schooling. 

“Jaemin brought up meeting the parents,” Donghyuck said after a beat. 

“Wow, seriously? I could have sworn you were just whining about commitment issues a month prior,” Jeno said off-handedly. “What changed, hm?”

“Well, that’s the first step,” huffed Donghyuck, dusting the non-existent off his jacket. He reached forward to grab another roll of sushi, stuffing it into his mouth. “He said it would only be a bit before he gets shipped off for enlistment, so if we kept making up excuses we’d never find the right time to meet his family. It’s not fair, he doesn’t have to deal with the same thing as I am. No matter what he says, video calling my parents isn’t the same as having dinner together at the same ruddy table!”

Jeno peered out of the window as he listened to his friend ramble. At first, Donghyuck had just been his best friend’s boyfriend and now, he had become a friend in his own right. The two of them got along quite well, and it would do no good to stop talking to each other whenever Jaemin had a row with him, considering their on-and-off relationship.

This apartment was in the perfect location. From here he could see the train station he could take to his university. He didn’t know how he managed to commute back and forth from home for a year without going a little stir-crazy. 

**[hyuck] We’re going to be picking up chenle soon any words u guys wanna say to him**

**[nana] can’t we just text him tho lmao he’s in this gc**

**[hyuck] he’s in an airplane though…? Dumbass**

**[nana] psh oh well tell him welcome back!**

**[nana] jen do you have anything prepared**

**[injun] Right lol**

**[injun] I can’t believe your long distance r/s is gonna be**

**[injun] not a long distance one anymore??**

**[me] well put LOL**

**[me] we got a banner and some roses**

**[me] too cheesy??**

**[injun] NAHH he’ll love it both of you are sappy as hell**

**[nana] i second that**

**[injun] Tell him I’m sorry I can’t make it to see him**

**[injun] Tell me why I chose to go to a university on the other side of the country again???**

**[nana] because you gotta get that scholarship**

**[hyuck] yk jeno is gonna forget everything once he sees the boy right**

**[nana] then we’re counting on you bae**

**[hyuck] i gotchu**

“I’ll flag down a taxi!” said Donghyuck.

It was difficult to fit into the car with all the flowers and the balloons, but they managed anyway. All their struggles were forgotten once they sped down the highway, air conditioner on full blast. Both of them sighed, basking in the cold air. The summer heat was nightmarishly hot. 

“What a terrible jam,” Jeno muttered, carefully angling the bouquet in his lap away from his nose. He never got Chenle’s love for flowers. It made sense, though, thinking back to the numerous potted plants he had grown in his old house. 

“Are we going to make it on time?” Jeno fiddled with the shoelace tied around his wrist. What if they arrived late? Chenle would be there all by himself, expecting a surprise that never came, and what kind of horrible welcome would it be, after a long flight and two years abroad? 

Donghyuck sat up, bringing Jeno into a one-armed embrace with a hand around his shoulder, “Uncle, please go faster, he’s afraid he’s going to be late in meeting the love of his life!”

Jeno let out an indigent squawk, But his friend just ran over soothingly, saying, “Don’t worry, groomzilla, we’ll be fine, go to sleep, I’ll wake you up when we get there,” so he took a nap, albeit a fitful one. 

When they reached the airport, Jeno had to pull Donghyuck out of the car forcefully. They had been inside for an hour, it was difficult to leave. And they had been asleep the whole way, so they hadn’t given complete directions; the driver had dropped them off at the wrong terminal and they had to take the airport train to reach the right one. Jeno had brought his flowers close to his chest, hiding his burning face as an elderly woman back from a trip had spotted him and was cooing over “the beauty of young love,” Donghyuck coolly leaning to the side like he wasn’t affiliated with Jeno at all. 

He didn’t bother trying to hide his impatience as they reached arrivals, with Jeno swooping up and down on his feet, from his heels to toes. What should he say? He had imagined this countless times in his head: he had aptly named it in his head: ‘The return to end all returns.’ It would be different from the times Chenle had popped by for a short visit. 

A new wash of people scattered out of the exit, greeting family, carrying luggages. Donghyuck was already on standby, holding up the banner. After fifteen minutes, though, his arms were starting to flag. 

“You were worried about being late and turns out Chenle’s the late one. What a shocking turn of events,” he mumbled, massaging at a shoulder. 

“I see him!” Jeno exclaimed, half-terrified. He would recognise Chenle’s electric blue hair from a mile away. He wasn’t just holding onto the duffel bag as he usually did, which, well, of course, he would do that, he was coming back for real this time—

Chenle had left his luggage behind the railing and broke out into a light jog, Donghyuck dropped the banner with a clatter to the floor as they clasped their hands together and bumped their torsos against each other in their form of a bro hug. It always made Jeno snort whenever he saw it, but now— he didn’t know what to say. 

“Good to see you! I missed you,” Chenle said, leaning over to face Jeno, his lips stretched into a lazy smile, dark circles under his eyes from a sleepless flight. “Well, hello.”

What should he do? They had never done too much PDA, they were always sort of apprehensive about it. “Hello.” 

“You brought flowers,” Chenle said, hoisting the bouquet into his arms. He was delighted, it was such a lovely expression on his face. Even after five years, Jeno swore he would never tire of it. 

“I did.” 

Chenle pretty much threw himself onto him, then, happiness infectious, winding his arms around the back of Jeno’s neck and knocking all the air out of Jeno’s lungs, squealing in an excited voice in his ear as if his voice hadn’t deepened at all, “ _I missed you, I missed you, I missed you!_ ”

“I missed you too,” Jeno answered breathlessly, blind to all the onlookers’ stares. “What do you think of the banner? I was thinking about writing welcome home, but it’s technically it’s your home country, so I wrote welcome back—“

“Home is wherever I’m with you, Jen. And it’s wonderful.”

They looked at each other for a long time, smiling like idiots. Donghyuck had a hand on Chenle’s luggage, rolling his eyes good-naturedly. 

“Ugh. Why did I even tag along if I was going to be the third wheel?” 

Chenle dipped his head sheepishly, and Donghyuck sighed in a fond, resigned sort of way. 

The three of them went to get dinner at the airport cafeteria. “I want to get some chicken,” said Chenle. Jeno remembered what he had brought along for him to eat, pulling a tiny tin the size of his palm out of the inside of his bag he had brought along. It had been a silly idea. It was such a hot day, surely it would go bad...

“I brought a little thing for you. A little homemade kimchi.” He tentatively removed the lid. To his relief, it still smelled fresh. 

“Oh man, I want some too. You spent ages on those!” Donghyuck had already ordered a bowl of soba, armed with a pair of chopsticks. Jeno had _really_ wanted Chenle to eat it, so he blinked at Donghyuck gratefully. 

Chenle looked at it. “You always said you enjoyed store-bought kimchi. You never made it yourself.” 

“Well, a lot happened while you were away. Did you know Jeno picked up knitting?”

“I know,because I told him I started knitting too,” said Chenle, surprised. “I didn’t know that. We’ve got a lot to catch up with, don’t we?” 

Jeno was glad, excusing himself from the table to help collect Chenle’s food. Donghyuck had taken the liberty of bringing along the herbal tea Dad had made for him. Allegedly, it was good to drink after long flights. 

__

Donghyuck had gone home. Chenle hadn’t bothered to unpack, having showered and dug out some clothes of Jeno’s to wear. His boyfriend was going around the apartment, touching everything that interested him. 

“You’ve made such a nice home here. I need to find an apartment of my own soon too,” he commented. Seeing Chenle there, in his clothes, in his house, looking like he belonged there, made him feel something funny in his chest. “I can stay here for now, right?”

“You should move in here. With me, I mean. I’m not going to live here forever, but it would be nice, this place is clearly for a place for two,” Jeno said quickly. 

Chenle laughed. “You even have a king-sized bed!” He stumbled over his feet and landed face down onto the mattress, hugging one of the pillows like a vice. 

He couldn’t help it, lying down next to Chenle. “I want to put my head on your shoulder, but it’s too hot for that,” Jeno said, swiping a rivulet of sweat away from his forehead. 

“It is too hot for that, but I don’t care.” Slouching, Chenle tugged Jeno towards him, tucking Jeno’s head underneath his chin. Jeno sighed, slinging a hand over the younger man’s middle. 

“This is nice.” 

“I think I should move in,” said Chenle after a beat. “You know we’ll end up arguing over the silliest things, right?”

“I’ve lived with four other people. We can work it out.” Jeno knew their habits at home would end up clashing, but it was bound to happen. They spent a few minutes discussing the way they folded their clothes and various household habits. 

Their legs tangled together. “So you’re back in Korea. What do you plan to do now? Got a schedule you need to tell me about? I have mine pinned on the board.” 

Chenle looked pensive, brushing Jeno’s hair with his fingers carefully. “I’m finding a part-time job. I need some time to myself. I got some stuff to set up a business like my grandfather’s here in Korea.”

Startled, Jeno straightened up, glancing at Chenle. “Wait, seriously? I didn’t think....” 

Back in school Chenle had complained about his affinity, that he didn’t want to do something simply because he could. He wasn’t certain what setting up a business entailed. 

“I genuinely want to do it. I picked up a notebook of my grandfather’s notes along with me and got a few clients with a spirit in their home to expel to get a feel. And I didn’t think it was that bad. I even cried a little when I sent a ghost home once. You see, I got a client already.”

“Really? Already?”

“You see,” said Chenle, “she’s your mother. She inherited her grandaunt’s new property, and she’s certain there’s a spirit in there. I even sent her a bunch of stuff to confirm the presence of ghosts. What do you think?”

“That you can’t do it alone?”

“The nearby library opens at 10 am tomorrow, doesn’t it?” 

Jeno sighed deeply. “We have a lot of work to do.”

Chenle smiled. “I can’t wait!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Article I'm reading about writing epilogues: "Sometimes, an epilogue is not necessary" 
> 
> Me: IT'S MY STUFF AND I'LL DO WHAT I WANT 
> 
> I just wanna write some jenle fluff lmfao

**Author's Note:**

> My prompter has fallen off the face of the earth since June. Hope you're doing okay.  
> They specifically requested for an 00 line ship, but I ended up writing a rarepair. Please, write more Jenle, NCT ficdom.  
> If you have reached the end, thank you so much for reading this fic. I'm really attached to this story, I've had it for 9 months, it's practically my baby. I can't believe it's over! can you believe this was going to be 56k!  
> And if you're a part of Jenle nation... YOU ROCK! 
> 
> [ twitter](https://twitter.com/okaeythen?s=09)  
> [curious cat](https://curiouscat.me/okaeyy)


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